


Kevlar Soul

by sthlmsyndr0me



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A lot of boners lol, A lot of namedropping of One Direction-songs tbh, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Anne is a bitch, Bottom Louis, But kinda explicit I guess, Coming Out, Don't let all the angst fool you, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Famous Harry, Fluff, Happy Ending, Harry is closeted, Harry wears a lot of Saint Laurent, I really don't know how to tag, It's not super explicit, It's really angsty from time to time, M/M, Mention Of Suicide Attempt, Non-Famous Louis, OT4, Should I do smut tags too?, Smut, Top Harry, Very happy ending, louis saves harry, mentions of blowjobs, mentions of rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 02:23:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7148582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sthlmsyndr0me/pseuds/sthlmsyndr0me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Here’s your drink” Niall says, shoving a rather hefty whiskey on the rocks in his hand. Harry gapes impressed, and is just about to thank the manager when he’s interrupted once more.<br/>“Stay fucking put here and I’ll just bring them over, ok?”</p><p>He marches off, but Harry hardly notices. The garden has suddenly gone very dark, all except that one spotlight, giving Harry narrow tunnel vision. </p><p>Because for the first time in his life, Harry lays his eyes on Louis.</p><p>Or</p><p>Harry is the closeted rock star who hates both his life and himself. Louis is the personal assistant who to most people is no one special, but to Harry is the most special person ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, wow, so I finally finished my first long fic! I've literally never written anything this long in my life before, not even in my native tongue, but I just went with it. 
> 
> SPECIAL THANKS: Dimple, thank you so much love, for all the help and support and confidence boosting you've given me these last few months. I can honestly say I'm a hundred percent sure that this fic would't have been finished if it wasn't for you. Thank you for keep pushing me, and being such a great person to chat ideas with. And thank you for your generous editing, it's really a better fic after your notes!
> 
>  
> 
> TRIGGERS: I don't really know how to tag, but if you're easily triggered, beware that there is a lot of mentioning of depression, drug abuse, suicide attempts and shit like that. It all has a very happy ending though.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the fic! Please leave kudos and comments, that would mean the world to me!

**H**

 

“Thank you Staples, I love each and every one of you!” he screams, waving and blowing kisses at the bright lights and fluttering flashes.

And just like that, everything goes dark. Harry Styles is led through a narrow corridor, and his world tour has officially come to an end.

The loud cries from the fans fades out as he is shuffled through the murky labyrinth of the backstage area, to reach the awaiting cars before the audience is out of the arena. Harry’s ears are ringing. 

Once he’s sat safe in the backseat of a black Range Rover, beside his mate Liam, Harry realises he already misses it. The black lace shirt clings to his sweaty body, his curls are breaking loose from the matching bandana, and he’s still out of breath from running up and down the stage for the last two hours. Harry’s feet are hurting in the high heeled black suede boots he’s crammed them into, and he is sure to wake up with a bruised side after that nasty fall halfway through the third song. But still, he already misses it. “History World Tour” had been his life for the last ten months.

He sits in the car and already misses seeing the world, visiting every continent, and being celebrated everywhere he goes. Harry would never admit it, not even to Liam, but the admiration and worshipping is what he will miss the most. Looking out over a sea of fans screaming his name, drowning him in astounded gazes, believing them when they scream that he is God. That Harry Styles is bigger than a puny human, that his life is more important. That he makes a bigger difference.

Harry is a hundred per cent sure that any artist who claimed they neither understood nor cared about how famous they were, or if they affected people, lied. Why would they want to stay famous if not for that rush?

And as for now, Harry doesn’t know when he’ll have that rush again. The uncertainty scares the living crap out of him. Still buzzing high on adrenaline from the concert, he still feels almighty. But he knows, and has known for a long while, that when the rush leaves his blood, he’s as empty as before. If not worse.

But tonight, Harry needs to feel alive.

 

They end up at one of his producers’ flats that’s hundreds of feet up in the air, with a clear ocean view. Many from his entourage are there, as well as people who have worked on the tour with him. Nonetheless, Harry sees a lot of new faces. Curious faces. Interested faces.

He and Liam do two shots each as soon as they enter, to keep the kick on edge. Besides the two shots and a few beers during the show, Harry hasn’t taken anything, and for being so close to sober, he feels unusually happy.

“I need a fuck” he bluntly whispers to his best friend, who grins.

Liam laughs easily. “Just take your fucking pick man, there’s not one person here tonight who doesn’t want you up their ass”

Harry waves him off at that, smiling, but lingers at his words, searching the room. He takes another shot for good measure, and then another one, because he’s built up his tolerance over the years.

Once he feels fuzzy and numbed he lets his mind and eyes wander the room, calmly searching for a one-night companionship.

The large room is dimly lit from small lights in the high ceiling. The floor is jammed with people laughing, dancing, grinding. Harry feels out of touch, and wonders if their lives are as easy as they look, watching their blissful, alcohol-induced smiles and sweaty bodies moving to the loud music. He wants to be one of them. Tonight he’s going to be.

Suddenly, standing by the door leading deeper into the apartment, like a watchdog to the gates of hell or heaven, Harry spots someone. One shoulder leaning against the wall, allowing Harry ogle his profile. Dark brown hair and a five-day scruff. He’s got broad shoulders but is still shorter than Harry, and much to Harry’s delight, the shorter man’s tight black jeans squeeze around his bum.

They lock eyes and he feels the man’s stare burn holes in his clothes. The man’s smile is insecure but the gaze is fixed. His mind is set. The concert adrenaline is still pumping through Harry’s veins, making him immortal. They haven’t spoken one word to each other, but Harry already knows that this is whom he craves tonight.

Still in the clawing hands of his God-complex and those four shots, Harry walks over to him, not letting his eyes wander away to the rest of the room even once. The man smiles at him, crooked. Wicked in a way. When Harry is close enough the shorter man grasps his shirt and draws him in. They’re standing flush against each other, and Harry feels him already half hard against his thigh.

“I’m Harry” he whispers against the shorter man’s cheek, grasping for reality.

“I know your name.” he smiles into the crook of Harry’s neck. “I don’t care.” He states, before latching his teeth on to Harry’s collarbones, holding his shirt tighter, a low “shh”-sound vibrating over Harry’s throbbing nerves.

The man’s breath is hot, which has Harry feeling even weaker. He wants to give himself up to this, just for the night. Just take and be taken, leaving as detached as he came.

But as Harry opens his eyes again, the spell is broken. He remembers the room that they’re in and registers the people around them, their eyes and glaring stares, and how they know. They know what he is, and how he shouldn't be exactly that. They see the lies he tells on a daily basis, and they see how weak he is. How shattered.

Harry stumbles back, pushing the man away from him, harder than necessary.

"I-I'm sorry” Harry quickly stammers, looking around, feeling like a deer at headlight. The shorter man frowns; and Harry catches the hint of confusion and disappointment in his eyes before he scurries out of the room.

He needs something to shake him, move his core, smack his face and to change everything, he needs that. He needs air. Harry stumbles through the long corridors, looking for privacy, or at least somewhere to recover his breathing rate and let it go back to normal. After walking in on two people having sex in one bedroom, and another four hitting a bong in another, he finds his way to a guest bedroom, the one farthest away from the living room and all the people. As he closes the door behind him, exhaling loudly, he detects a small balcony on the other side of double glass doors. Harry makes quick steps to his newfound space of enclosed freedom.

 

Alone on the balcony, Harry starts crying. The ugly snot-sobbing kind, nothing artistic or beautiful about it. A desperate, lonely kind of crying, with grey, muddled tears falling down his pale cheeks. 

Harry hasn’t cried in years, and as he does so, he remembers why. It hurts to cry. Hurts even more than keeping the pain bottled up. “Crying helps” is a dirty lie.

He forces himself to stop, the muffled music can still be heard from where he’s stood. Even though the flat is huge, taking up the whole story of the building, Harry doesn’t want to go back to the people and the grinding and the laughter. So instead he clenches his broad fists around the balcony parapet, looking down. He hadn’t realised how high up they were. What was it – level 37, 38?

The wind strokes his face, cool on his swollen, damp skin. If he jumped from here he’d die before hitting the ground. Or maybe he would fly, not even hit the ground, but just fly away. Harry yearns for it, his insides doing double flips at the thought of letting go and not ever coming back. He stands on his tiptoes, breathing heavily into the roaring wind with closed eyes.

 

He can, he can.

 

He can’t.

 

Liam yanks the door open behind him, the music growing louder with it. Harry loosens his grip on the baluster a bit, seeing his knuckles regaining colour.

“Harry, man, there you are. I got the coke, wanna make this boring shit a real party?” Liam slurs, high from whatever the hell he’s been taking.

Harry sighs.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there” he hears himself mumble.

Liam leaves him alone again, not shutting the door behind him. Harry closes his eyes again, taking one deep breath. Two. Three. He turns his back at the balcony and walks back to the party, allowing for the numbness to replace the adrenaline that had been pumping through his veins.

 

Not today either, he thinks. Perhaps tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**H**

 

“It’ll be good for you.”

“You need this.”

“Think of it as a wise career move.”

“Fine it’s a lot of ass kissing, but it involves a lot of booze.”

“Just get your fucking ass down here so I can introduce you to people who’ll make us both rich.”

 

Harry’s manager has been trying to convince him to come to the Official Grammy After Party for weeks, using every persuasion technique in the book. The last one he had yelled over the phone to a baked Harry just a few hours earlier. And sure, he had a point, it was little effort for big pay, but Harry hardly left his mansion in over a week since the tour ended since everything was being delivered to him. He ordered food whenever he was hungry; people, drugs and alcohol when he wanted to party; and bags of snacks along with a stack of movies when he was in a cuddly mood. The last one included having Liam deliver all of it, and function as a human pillow during his visit. Liam didn’t mind, most of the time.

But now, Harry is stood outside one of the biggest mansions and fanciest parties he had ever visited – and that said quite a lot. As he went over to the enormous garden that could be overlooked at the beginning of a large stone staircase, Harry watched waiters in white shirts and black pants circled the plethora of guests down below, rounding the several fountains, staying clear of the wild rose bushes and offering wine as they went along. The trees surrounding were lit with thousands of delicate lights, looking like fireflies, making the grass and the attending people glow.

Harry hadn’t had the energy to do as much of a makeover as he probably needed with the lazy week he’d had, but since he was a rock star people sort of expected him to sport greasy hair. He hardly had any facial hair anyway, so not having shaved for a week didn’t do that much of a difference. His look for the night was complemented with tight black leather pants, a red floral shirt with tassels and a rather large hat, he thought he had shaped up pretty good.

When the executives want a filthy rocker, they get a filthy rocker. 

“Styles, thank god, there you are” his manager greets him as he runs up the stairs, giving him a quick hug. “Yeez man, you couldn’t have showered?” he adds, pulling back and grimacing.

“Nice to se you too, Niall” Harry smiles.

He actually missed the eccentric blonde man in front of him. Niall looks sharp in a navy blue suit, open collared white shirt and expensive shoes in Italian leather. Their styles clash profoundly, but Harry guesses that is part of why they make such a good team.

“Are you good?” Niall asks, looking at him with genuine concern. “Since the tour and all?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine, just feels nice to leave the house for a few hours.”

And at that, Harry smiles again. Neither of them really knows if it’s a real smile. Niall observes him a few more seconds, before apparently deciding it’s not worth pushing it any further at the moment. Instead he nudges Harry to face the lit, decorated garden and walk to the bottom of the stairs. They stop once they’re at the bottom of the staircase.

“Anyway, you have so many important people to act for, are you ready?” Niall asks, scouring the crowd with hawk eyes.

“Fine, let’s get it over with, I just need a –“

“Here’s your drink” Niall says, shoving a rather hefty whiskey on the rocks in his hand. Harry gapes impressed, and is just about to thank his manager when he’s interrupted once more.

“Stay fucking put here and I’ll just bring them over, ok?”

He quickly marches off, but Harry hardly notices him go. The garden suddenly turns dim; all except that one spotlight, giving Harry narrow tunnel vision. 

 

Because for the first time in his life, Harry lays his eyes on _him_.

Somehow, it’s the eyes he notices first. Despite the fact that he’s quite a few feet away from the man, Harry finds them to be completely mesmerising. Big, blue and soulful, almost as if they’re piercing through everyone he looks at. Those blue eyes are attached to the prettiest person Harry thinks he’s ever seen. A short, curvy man in his mid twenties with a light quiff balancing on top of his head. He looks like he’s dusted in gold.

The man stands leaning on one hip, sporting an impressively round bum, scrolling through his phone with a focused look on his face. His limp wrist rests over the little pout at the bottom of an otherwise flat stomach. The soft light from the surrounding trees cuts his face in sharp angles, and Harry can’t be sure if the man has used contouring or just happens to be blessed with a perfectly sculpted bone structure. His cheekbones look like they were made to make men bleed just from the slightest touch. Harry can almost feel the paper cuts on his tongue. The highlighted cheekbones frame a round button nose, a nose that the man decides to scrunch right the moment when Harry is watching him.

Harry needs to talk to him. He has never needed to talk to anyone this much in his life. He needs to know the man’s name, need to know what to call him. If not only to have something to moan when he comes later that night.

Harry doesn’t know what he is supposed to say to such a perfect individual, since the only sentence that comes him to mind is “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, please marry me”, but he will think of something. He has to.

But before he has the chance to woo this golden fairy-tale prince of a man, Niall is blocking his view, dragging the vice president of some record label whose ass he is supposed to kiss. Then Harry ten minutes later excuses himself from a particularly boring conversation about golf to go look for the golden boy is gone, only to find he’s gone.

 

\---

 

The second time Harry sees him, it’s later that same night as he’s halfway through a chat with Kendall Jenner, one of his old “image establishing colleagues”. Harry was used to do mutual promo, in order to not “share more of himself than necessary”, as the management people not so eloquently had put it. They always said it was for his own good. “As a big artist you get enough hate Harry, we just want to protect you”. And protection in their terms meant being papped with good looking, bland models like Kendall Jenner.

From what Harry had gathered Kendall is gay too, but that common detail had unfortunately not made her any more pleasant to work with.

As she is rambling on about some model or party or whatever, the future man of Harry’s midnight fantasies appears by her side. Shorter than her, but radiantly more beautiful.

Kendall looks disapproving before he even has the chance to say anything, Harry notices.

“Miss Jenner, I’m sorry to bother you but –” he begins, voice low and business-like.

He’s quickly interrupted.

“Then don’t, Lewis” she snaps at him.

The man frowns and watches Kendall, slightly in disbelief.

“It’s actually Loui-“ he begins, before he is cut off again.

“Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?”

The shorter man quirks an eyebrow at that. Harry wants to know what comebacks he has itching on his tongue right now. He wants to help him swallow them.

During the awkwardly strained silence that follows, Harry takes it as his cue to enter the conversation and save this lovely Lewis from another outburst he most likely doesn’t deserve. Making a show out of ignoring Kendall, he puts forth his hand, initiating a handshake.

“Hi, I’m Harry Styles, who might you be?” Harry smiles a crooked smile, knows it makes his dimples pop. It doesn’t even take any effort to do so.

A spark of amusement flickers in those deep ocean eyes before Lewis takes Harry’s much larger hand and shakes it. His is warm and soft, but his grip is firm.

“Louis. Louis Tomlinson” he smiles.

While Harry slowly releases his grip on Louis’ hand and tries to figure out something more intelligent to say than “can I blow you?”, Kendall rudely interrupts, once again.

“What did you want Lewis?” she huffs.

“Oh right, uhm, sorry. A Mr. Stevensen wanted to speak with you, miss Jenner” Louis says.

Kendall widens her eyes comically.

“And you let him wait? You little incompetent idiot, show me where he is” Kendall shrieks, dragging Louis away from Harry.

And just like that, in a flash of a second, they are gone. Harry is aching. He’s not sure with what really, but it’s intense, burning in his veins. 

Should be possible to drink that away, right?

 

Turns out it’s harder than he thinks. Harry is halfway through his fourth serving of a double gin and tonic, stirring the drink with a purple cocktail stick, still reminiscing about Louis’s handshake and his lips. The melting ice cubes clinks against the glass, resonating in Harry’s ears.

Niall had left him here a while ago, going off to talk business with some old man with a shitload of power. The usual, this was the part Niall did best as a manager. Harry really doesn’t care, but instead trusts Niall to work out the details. In contrast to a lot of other people, Niall actually had Harry’s best interests at heart. 

A familiar, soft voice speaks next to him.

“Vodka with lime on the rocks please, and make it a big one.”

Harry turns his head as fast as his alcohol poisoned brain allows him to, while lazily combing through his long chocolate locks with a big hand and plastering the most charming dimpled smile he can muster on his face. Again, since it’s for Louis, the smile doesn’t take much effort.

Louis hops on the high seat right next to him, just staring at the variety of alcohol bottles stacked on the shelves behind the bartender.

“I can buy that for you” Harry says, voice smooth like velvet.

Louis quickly turns towards him and smiles the second his eyes fall on Harry.

“Oh, hi Harry, I didn’t see you there. Thank you” he says politely.

Harry eyes him, taking a big sip of his drink, chewing on a cube of ice.

“Are you alright?” he then asks his sapphire-eyed dream.

Louis shrugs, shoulders heavy as he receives his drink from the bartender.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m just tired” he says, taking a sip and sucking in his cheeks, savouring the bitter taste.

His eyelashes drape long shadows over high cheekbones. Harry’s heart might have missed a beat in the process.

“Is it Kendall?” He asks bluntly, and at that Louis looks thoughtful but amused at the same time. “Don’t let her put you down, okay?”

“Oh don’t worry, I don’t mate” Louis smiles, chasing the smile with three gulps of his drink at once.

“She’s a real prick, honestly” Harry chuckles, a bitter tone to his voice.

Louis looks at Harry, confounded, observing his side profile.

“I thought you used to date her?” he asks.

Harry flashes a smile at him, faking amusement.

“You’re new to this then, are you?”

Louis frowns at the sudden change in Harry’s tone, turning his eyes back towards the bar.

“I’ve only been working for her for a couple of weeks, if that’s what you mean” he answers coolly.

“Yeah okay, I didn’t mean it like that… Well, you see, Kendall and I, we were just business. Mutual promo, see?” He gesticulates quote marks. “‘Image establishing colleagues’”

“And what the hell is that?” Louis asks, swallowing the last few drops of his drink.

“Bearding” Harry says simply, but Louis’ face is still crumpled in a puzzled manner, so he clarifies “I’m gay, Louis”.

Louis raises his eyebrows, finally catching on.

“Ohh, okay, and you’re not allowed to come out?” he asks, simply.

The straightforwardness of the question hits Harry like a punch in the stomach. His throat goes dry, and he wants to chew more ice.

“That’s one way to put it… I suppose” he says after a while.

“That sucks, man” Louis says sympathetically, staring at the wall behind the bar once again. 

They sit like that for a minute, side by side in silent, Harry’s head buzzing with alcohol, itching for something stronger. That’s until Louis stands up, a bit shorter than he was sitting on the high bar chair.

“I should go, Kendall’s probably going to wanna leave soon. But Harry” he says, putting a veiny hand on Harry’s shoulder, squeezing lightly “thank you, really. And about that closet-thing. I get the feeling you’re not doing it for you, and if you ever wanna talk about it, I’m around.”

He pauses and swallows, still looking Harry in the eyes “I might not be famous, but I know how it eats you up inside to lie about yourself like that to everyone.”

Another squeeze over the shoulder, and a faltered smile.

“See you” he says, and leaves without another glance.

Harry feels so numb he doesn’t order another drink for seven minutes. The warmth and pressure of Louis’ dainty hand doesn’t leave his skin for thirteen.

 

**N**

 

Niall is surprised by how easy it is to persuade Harry is to follow him to another industry party two days later. As soon as he mentions Kendall, Harry agrees to go, and Niall can’t really figure out why. Doesn’t he hate her? 

Anyway, he’s not going to complain, not when that short visit to the Grammy after party already is leading to some very promising endorsements.

“Harry, are you ready?” he shouts as he slams the front door behind him.

It’s been a long time since Niall was over at Harry’s house, and an even longer time since he used to knock before entering.

The two of them go way back, having just met as Harry was about to release his debut single and Niall had an internship at Harry’s management. Since then they’re like brothers, and even have “shippers” after some pap pictures of Niall almost carrying a hammered Harry to a cab were taken after a hectic party. Those pictures and rumours had been a bitch to shut down, Niall recalls, still scowling whenever he thought of them.

_(As for the shipping-part, Harry liked to laugh about it, but it mostly made Niall sick to his stomach. “It’d be like having sex with my brother” “People like different things, Niall” Harry giggled. “Oh shut your fucking face”)_

“Yeah, soon” he hears Harry answer from the kitchen, and follows his voice. Niall finds Harry hunched over the kitchen island, dressed in skin-tight black jeans, a thin leopard-patterned shirt and matching leopard boots. 

The artist coughs as he’s standing straight again, wiping his nose with the back of his hand and smiling wide.

“Niall! My lovely friend!” he greets him, hugging him hard.

Niall takes a step back, looking at him.

“You’re mighty sharp tonight, aren’t you?”

“Ahh, you think? Thank you, I did put more effort in then last time, showered and everything” Harry jokes, eying his reflection in the microwave.

“Yes, that I can see, trying to impress someone are we?” Niall asks, amused by this very vain side of Harry.

“Who the fuck would that be?” Harry asks, a bit too unbothered, fixing his locks.

“That’s what I’m asking you, Harry”

When Niall realises he won’t be getting an answer anytime soon, he drags Harry by the hair away from any kind of reflecting surfaces and then shuffles him out to the car.

“I’ll figure it out in due time, you’ve never been able to hide these things,” he cackles, closing the door behind them.

 

The club the Azoff’s has hired is an impressing one. It might actually be more of a ballroom, or a fucking castle for that matter. The family usually threw parties once every few months, and as far as making contacts went, these events were the ones to be at. Everyone who really matters within the music industry were partying under the same roof.

As the blonde manager and his leopard-clad client enter the huge room, stopping at the stairs for a few seconds, scanning the area.

“It’s him,” Niall says after a few moments of silence, pointing at Louis.

Harry looks like he doesn’t know if he’s impressed or scared.

“We literally walked through the doors two seconds ago.”

Niall looks up at the taller lad, a smug grin plastered on his face.

“I’m right though, aren’t I?”

“…Yes”

Niall barks with laughter, causing Harry to roll his eyes at him.

“How the fuck did you know?” he scowls.

Niall winks at him theatrically before looking away and explaining.

“You’ve got a very specific type Harry. And that boy over there is the finest example of your taste yet. Plus your face lit up like a fucking Christmas tree, so I just looked in your direction.” Niall laughs. “Don’t pout” he adds.

“You’re not even looking at me!” Harry exclaims.

“Didn’t you pout?” he asks, still not looking at Harry.

Harry refuses to answer, still pouting. Niall keeps laughing, pulling him into the masses to get to work.

 

A few hours later the two men are slouched against one of the bars, after shaking so many hands their fingers are sore, and laughing at so many boring jokes their brains have gone numb.

Niall is very pleased with the evening.

He looks over at Harry beside him, who is leaning his back against the bar and has his eyes intensely fixed on someone at the other end of the room. Niall rolls his eyes.

“So, are you gonna talk to him or what? You’ve been watching him all night. Literally. I think Mrs Adams even got a bit offended by your lack of interest.”

Harry sighs, looking at Niall quickly, reaching back for his drink.

“I sort of hoped he would notice me this time” he mumbles, touching his chest at the word “me”.

“What are you – sober?” Niall tuts. “Get your act together man. Plus, how is he supposed to notice you when you’ve stayed out of his eyeshot all night?”

Niall very much viewed himself the voice of reason in their working relationship.

“I’m –“

Niall interrupts Harry before he comes up with a dumb excuse.

“And, haven’t you seen how Kendall’s been treating him? That asshole needs a course in manners, honestly, why is she always like that?”

“Yeah, you got that right” Harry mumbles into his glass, forehead frowning, eyes firmly back on Louis.

Niall stands up from his chair, leaving a generous tip on the bar counter.

“Dude, I’d love to watch you torture yourself like this all night, but I’ve got better stuff to do.” He fixes his costume jacket, smoothing out the front and buttoning it.

“This was a productive party Harry, were ace. Now relax, for fucks sake. Get yourself some ass or whatever, and stay easy on the coke and booze, okay? You know I worry.”

Harry just takes another gulp of his drink and waves Niall off dismissively. The blonde man answers with a tight, one-armed hug and a kiss to the temple.

“Call me when you wake up tomorrow afternoon, yeah?” he says before turning away an leaving.

 

**H**

 

Harry is now sat alone by the bar, gulping down his fifth drink, dressed in the sexiest outfit he’s worn for a long while, if he does dare say so himself, and no one to share it with. He’s got the attention of most women in the room, and even some of the men, - but not Louis. This needs to be handled with delicacy, and with charm and grace and…

Harry definitely needs some sort of artificial courage.

 

He chugs the last of his drink, him too leaving a generous tip to the cute bartender, and heads off to the toilets. His quick steps echo against the marble floor. He stops in front of the mirrors, eyeing himself carefully. The dim light is flattering, but it doesn’t change the fact that he looks hollow. The green eyes have been lacking depth for some time now. Harry rarely looked himself in the mirror for this particular reason. Harry hears the voice of a famous photographer, the one who shot him for Vanity Fair last year, saying thinks like “Yes, just like that, keep that hollow look” and “You look so good empty babe, hold that stare, yes just like that”. He hadn’t even tried to come across as “empty” and “hollow”, but apparently did so without trying.

But who cares about that when the photoshoot was hyped as the hottest one of the year and the photographer even won some award? 

Harry takes a shaky breath before walking to the booth farthest away from the bathroom door and the basins. Focus. Louis. Right.

As Harry locks the door behind himself, he reaches for the small tube-shaped container in his back pocket. While snorting up the powder with the attached little stick, he feels like Leonardo DiCaprio in “Wolf of Wall Street”. Most people would take such a comparison as a fair warning sign, but Harry’s flitting mind actually likes it. He feels his face relax as he pockets the container again.

 

Harry steps out of the toilet booth humming, a wide grin on his face. Boosted and courageous. He’s going to charm the pants off of Louis, be the fuck of a lifetime. Show him how cool and collected and well-travelled he is, how impressive, get him to wrap his golden thighs around his – 

Thump!

Harry walks into someone exiting another stall, hitting his chin on their forehead.

“Oops” he says, ashamed, looking down at the person he just barged into, having his mind and dick elsewhere.

Well fuck.

“Hi” Louis says, peering up at him, smile a bit strained as he rubs his forehead. “Away in your thoughts, were you mate?”

_Yes, in bed with you._

“You could say that, yeah” Harry agrees weakly, brushing his aching chin. “Fuck, I’m sorry Louis, are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine” he says, laughing softly. “Is your chin alright though? My thick head can’t be a picnic to ram into” he jokes, and reaches out to touch Harry’s jawbone.

A small thumb gently brushes Harry’s smooth face, making his breath catch in his throat.

They stand like that, Louis’ eyes fixed on Harry’s jaw as he caresses it delicately, and Harry simply watching Louis’ exquisite face, drinking him in.

Louis laughs awkwardly after a while, removing his hand and breaking the trance.

“Sorry, I –“

“It’s alright, I –“ Harry interrupts, not knowing what to say next. The absence of Louis’ delicate touch makes his jaw burn with the want of _moremoremore_.

Harry is just about to take a step closer, his body screaming that he needs to, when Louis takes an excusing step back.

“Anyway, sorry, I need to get back to my boss I think, she doesn’t really allow bathroom-breaks so I… yeah”

“Yeah, sorry, of course” Harry says.

 _Just fucking kiss me first_.

“I hope I’ll see you around later, I’d love to talk more. Maybe not getting beaten up the next time though” he smiles. Harry laughs faintly.

“Yeah, sorry again about that.”

Louis just shrugs and winks, as he’s backing away, before turning around, giving Harry a full, top class view of his ass in tight grey slacks. Does he always sway his hips like that?

Louis stops at the entrance and looks over his shoulder.

“See you around Haz” he says with a charmingly crooked eyebrow, the door slamming shut behind him before Harry has been able to get a word out.

 

Well, that didn’t really go according to plan.

 

**L**

 

The upcoming week, Louis attends a fashion party hosted by Balmain with Kendall. Award season comes along with the party season, that’s for damn sure, Louis thinks, as he stays in the shadows while his boss mingles. He can’t quite grasp, let alone understand, why the hell she hired him in the first place if all she’s going to do is keep sending him nasty looks over her bony shoulder. It’s also a bit unclear why he even has to be there at all.

“Might as well get myself a drink while she’s busy” Louis thinks, putting very little effort into being fully professional. Having no respect for a boss does that to a workingman, he thinks to himself, keeping a slight swagger in his step as he walks over to the bar.

Louis is halfway there to the safe haven of the bar when he sees him. Harry. He almost sighs his name out loud, in relief of seeing him again. Their run-in at the men’s toilets earlier in the week had affected him much more than he’d like to admit. He still shivers a bit at the thought of Harry’s smooth, pulsing skin underneath his thumb.

Harry is chatting with an older man whilst sporting a bored look on his chiselled face. In this rather fancy dress party Harry manages to both stick out like a weed and fit in perfectly at the same time. He plays the part of the dishevelled rocker beautifully.

Dark chocolate coloured locks hang loose from a messy ponytail, and a small silver feather dangles from a ring in his ear. It’s warm, but he’s wearing a zebra patterned coat – or perhaps it’s white tiger? – looking as cool as if it was a brisk fall day. The collar is flipped up, and while his arms are concealed, Louis can see most of his toned chest, through his see-through shirt, buttoned just above the navel. A detailed tattooed butterfly covers a big part of his tanned stomach, and on his chest two birds peek out from underneath the coat.

He sways a bit in his silver boots, switching which leg to stand on. Just as Louis tries to decide how to go about Harry - contemplating whether to buy a drink or three before talking to the enchanting artist again – the taller man catches his eye. And he smiles. The bored, cold face erupts into a sweet, dimpled grin, making him look younger than he did just a second before.

 

Before Louis has the chance to do anything Harry has excused himself from his stoic conversation and taken long, determined steps to reach him.

“Louis! Hi!”

He’s loud, almost a bit too loud, but so enthusiastic Louis can’t help but break out in a matching smile. Harry stops an inch too close for normal conversation, and eyes Louis with a gaze burning of something Louis can’t quite grasp.

“Hi there” he breathes.

Harry just looks at him for a few seconds. Louis feels like Harry’s drinking him, quite eagerly so.

“I’m so glad to see you again, I really hoped you would come to one of these things with her” Harry blurts out.

Her. It takes Louis a few moments to realise who Harry’s talking about. Does there in fact exist any more people than the two of them? 

Right. Kendall. His boss. 

“Shit, I don’t even know where she is” he confesses, dumbstruck, and Harry giggles – giggles, in that rock star coat? – peeking over Louis’ shoulder.

“Oh I see her alright, she’s talking with someone tall and probably very famous” he says, still smiling. “But who gives a fuck about her when you’re here?”

Louis doesn’t really know how to answer such a statement, or any of Harry’s brisk honesty for that matter. The rock star has inched a bit closer during their chat, his breath almost draping Louis’ clean-shaven face. His heart beats loud in his ears, racing thumps closing out most of the background noise. All that is now is Harry – with his bopping Adam’s apple and hungry eyes.

 

That is until someone claws Louis in an ungentle manner over the back.

“Lewis! Don’t bother Harry, he doesn’t want to talk to you” Kendall hisses.

Louis can suddenly hear every single person in the room again.

“Actually I-“ he begins, before being interrupted by her once more:

“Harry, how are you, darling?”

Kendall leans in for an elegant cheek kiss, when Harry puts a big hand on her shoulder and forces her to stop. He’s still smiling, but instead of a genuine, hearty smile like the one Louis just had received, it’s a manic, sarcastic one.

He barks a sudden laughter.

“No, dear” he says, emphasising the second word. “No no no.”

He doesn’t shove her, but Kendall willingly takes a step back, looking a bit confused. Harry switches his gaze between her and Louis a few times.

“You don’t get to interrupt our conversation, that I was very much enjoying thank you, with your little charade.”

Harry doesn’t break eye contact, Louis is not even sure that he blinks, and Kendall is so perplexed she can’t turn away either.

“I’m so” he leans over and pats her on the shoulder “fucking” pat “sick” pat pat “of this. I reeeally, really am. Honestly. So sick. And you, you walk around, in your little world, with this gorgeous assistant - whose name you can’t even pronounce properly by the way, how hard can it be - and you don’t appreciate it. Fuck. Off.”

Louis doesn’t really know where Harry is going with this, or if he is going somewhere with it at all, but he said gorgeous assistant and meant Louis, so he doesn’t really have time to care about anything else.

“Harry, you’re talking rather loudly” Kendall whispers, looking around to see if people are paying any attention.

Harry laughs again, literally howling this time. Louis and Kendall even exchange confused glances, forgetting for a second how annoyed they are with each other. People around them are indeed starting to look, wondering what’s going on between the eccentrically dressed singer and the model.

“Anyway” Harry abruptly says, a straight face all of a sudden. “I’m done here. Louis?”

Harry doesn’t look at him, just stretches out a hand.

“Give me your phone.”

“Uhm, why?” Louis hesitates, seeing as Harry is in some kind of mild psychotic break, and preferably not having a shattered phone screen by the end of the night.

“I need your number” he says simply.

Kendall practically gnarls.

“If you give him your number, you’re fired Lewis. Show some fucking loyalty.”

“Even better, work for me instead” Harry pleas, hand still outstretched, but a smug smirk is not plastered across his face.

Louis thinks about it for a few second before handing him the phone.

Harry quickly sends himself a text before giving the phone back.

“There you go, I’ll see you tomorrow then” he winks at Louis.

Then he turns to Kendall with an expression of mild disgust in his face.

“Hopefully it will be a while until we see each other again”

 

And just like that, he spins around on his silver boot heel and leaves, without another word or glance. Like a whirlwind, tornado, hurricane – changing everything. A tsunami breaking land, forcing trees up by the roots. A natural disaster in silver boots, longing for his freedom and perhaps a drink.

Louis is not sure how long he and his (now ex) employer stands there before he breaks the shocked silence resting between the two of them.

“Uhm, I guess I’m fired?” he says, smiling up at Kendall’s furious face.

“Oh fuck off Lewis” she says, marching off, shrugging her shoulders, as if she’s wishing to shake off the situation.

Louis figures it’s time to do like Harry and leave the party as well, but since it’s a free bar, he decides to use the perks of Kendall’s employment one last time and grab that vodka tonic he’s been lusting after all night.

Just as Louis gets his drink and takes the first sip, his phone chimes. It’s a gps-link to an address he’s never been to, and the message reads “ _come over at noon tomorrow, well talk your new job. don’t let them bring you down. thanks for tonight. xx H.”_

His face still hurts from smiling when he leaves the party, a bit drunk, an hour later.


	3. Chapter 3

**H**

 

It takes Harry a while to realise that he’s awake. When did he even go to sleep? Didn’t he get home from that Balmain-party just a few minutes ago? Slowly he recalls coming home, feeling unusually powerful, but not really remembering why. He had evidently gotten naked anyway, apparently, but can’t see any traces of another individual having joined him. Did he just have a lonely wank? He must have, feeling more relaxed than usual. After that, he probably fell asleep by himself afterwards for once, he figures, since he doesn’t remember taking any of his usual sleeping pills. Hm, was that all it took to sleep without medical help? Go figures.

It takes Harry a longer while to realise the reason why he’s not asleep anymore. Is it the sun? The bright streaks that make their way in from behind the curtain slapping him full on in the face? Is it his full bladder, or perhaps his empty stomach?

Ding dong. 

Fuck. It’s the doorbell. He grunts into his pillow, before forcing his heavy eyelids open. The alarm clock on his bedside table shows 12.26. An early rise. 

Ding dong ding dong.

Harry rolls up and off the bed, and tries to balance himself on on wobbly legs. He doesn’t feel worse than usual this time of day. Naked, shaking a bit, he walks over and leans on his dresser trying to find a clean pair of underpants. After putting on a pair of short black boxer briefs, he hastily grabs a purple silk shirt he founds slung over a chair and pulls it over his head. It’s only buttoned up to his belly button, but Harry doesn’t bother to up the rest as he realises his tongue is made of paper, sticking to his palate, making it hard to swallow. He needs water.

Ding dong ding dong ding dong.

Right. The mailman. What a fucking jerk, Harry thinks to himself as he makes his way towards the incessant bell ringing, as fast as his unsteady feet can take him. What kind of obsessive idiot is working this shift? Plan: 1. Yell at him 2. Drink a gallon of water 3. Die. Sounds reasonable enough. 

Harry’s only a few feet from the front door when the doorbell chimes yet another time.

“Come off it, you fucking-“ he starts as he yanks the front door open, ready to bite this mailman’s head off.

 

It isn’t a mailman who’s been ringing his bell though. It’s Louis.

Louis is standing on his doorstep; slightly wide eyed at the sight of seeing a half naked, fully hung-over Harry opening the door.

He is casually dressed in black rolled up jeans, a t-shirt and a light blue denim jacket. His ankles are bare, showing off tattoos, and his dainty feet disappear into maroon Vans.

“Did I wake you?” he asks, blue eyes amused as he looks over Harry’s exposed skin. It almost burns.

“Uh, hi” Harry answers dumbly.

“Can I come in?” Louis asks, already halfway through the door, and Harry just closes it behind them, following the shorter man inside, feeling a bit dumbfounded. Louis heads to the kitchen, leading the way as if he knows exactly where he’s going. Harry should get some water already, or at least offer Louis some, but instead decides to lean on the cool surface of his kitchen counter, just as Louis simply jumps up and perches himself on his kitchen island. The cleaners had just been there yesterday, so it looks decent.

“Forgot I was coming?” Louis asks, dangling his legs, looking around in the room that’s bathing in sunlight from the big windows just above the silver sink. He’s so pretty, Harry thinks, a real life version of a pixie or Peter Pan, and Harry is really glad Louis is sitting in his kitchen. Even if he just can’t remember why he’s there.

Louis looks bemused, calmly watching Harry trying to gather himself.

“No, of course not, you’re, uhm... here for the... Yeah” Harry mumbles, a blush growing on his neck.

Louis’ face suddenly changes, the little grin disappears and he sighs, looking like a cartoon.

“Well fuck” he says.

Harry is not prepared for this, and his fuzzy brain does nothing to help him figure out what he is missing or what he’s supposed to say.

“Well fuck what, what did I do?” he confusedly asks.

Louis quickly hops down from the kitchen island and starts pacing.

“Well, you offered me a job last night for one, and said I should stop by around noon for my first day as your assistant?”

A vague recollection of himself saying something like that echoes from somewhere in Harry’s clouded mind.

Right. Okay. Well fuck. Well done to Harry’s intoxicated past-self because he actually thought of a great idea for once.

“Yes, of course! Great! Sorry I’m still a bit groggy, I’m not a morning person as you can probably tell” he says, a bit too enthusiastically.

Louis perches his eyebrows and purses his mouth, dissatisfied.

“No no, I’m not going to con my way into getting this job, just ‘cause you feel too guilty to take it back” he say, looking like he’s about to leave the room. Harry let’s go of the counter and hurries over to him, quickly latching on to his wrist. He can’t let him leave.

“No, Louis, honestly” he begins, trying to remember how to form a proper sentence. “I’m actually thanking my influenced self for this stroke of genius. This is a great idea, I genuinely want you to be my assistant!” 

At that Louis’ face relaxes a bit, as he turns until he’s fully facing Harry. There is no actual need for Harry to hold on to his dainty wrist now, but he can’t bring himself to let go.

“My last one quit her job just a few days ago, just because I… Uhh…” _Well the truth is she had spent 45 minutes waking up an unconscious Harry who then threw up on her shoes, but what is that to complain about, really. He paid good money_. “… Just over a minor incident, it was silly. Please Louis, stay, this is a great idea, I’ve already seen how good you were with Kendall even if she was awful to you, and doesn’t really deserve you… Yeah, I need you.”

If Harry had been capable of controlling any bodily movements at the moment he would have batted his eyelashes. Louis rolls his eyes, which is the followed by a smug grin.

“Flattering Harry. Really know how to butter a man up, don’t you big rock stars?”

Harry smiles, knowing he’s got him on board.

“Okay, but can we just try it for today to begin with? Like a test run. However, I do like the concept. What do you need me to do?” Louis babbles.

Harry contemplates what he could get Louis to do for him to get him out of the house long enough for Harry to function properly and be able to charm him. He smirks as the idea strikes him.

“Okay, well, this is not the usual type of things you’ll have to do later on, but can you run to the supermarket and buy some shit for me please? Just like juice, bananas, toilet paper, lube”

Harry notices the way Louis’ cheeks grow pink and didn’t comment on the combination of items, simply nodding his head and writing them down in his phone. Harry is just planning on eating the bananas, but enjoys Louis’ flushed face far too much to clarify that little detail.

“And then fill the gas up in the car and pick up my dry cleaning?” he says, handing Louis his car keys off a side table.

“Yeah alright Hazza” Louis says, noting his errands down in a phone that’s far too big for his delicate hands. He heads to the front door with directions to the nearest supermarket and Harry’s drycleaner, yells back “text me if there’s something else” and slams the door shit behind him. Just like that, Harry is alone, yet again. Finally, a chance to clean up.

 

Two white lines up the nose and a cold shower wakes him up enough to stop shaking, and gets his brain running again. Harry stands in his messy room trying to figure out what to wear without having it look like he tried too hard and ends up going with the simple, yet effective, choice of skinny black jeans and nothing else.

He’s in the kitchen trying to untangle his wet curls with long fingers as Louis returns. Harry smiles politely when he realises he’s back again, and is pleased to notice how Louis’ eyes rest on his tattooed chest a little longer than necessary.

“Uhm, here are your… uhh, goods, I guess” Louis hands him the paper bag, and Harry’s cold fingers brush against Louis’ smaller ones.

“Great, thanks! Do you want a banana?” Harry asks, before he picks up the banana cluster out of the bag and starts peeling one for himself. “I love bananas. Best fruit ever. It’s both tasty and makes you full. Not like apples. Apples just makes me even hungrier than before, do you know what I mean?”

Fuck, is he rambling? He’s rambling, isn’t he?

Louis looks a bit confused.

“I don’t know that much about fruit to be honest, but yeah I guess” he chuckles, sounding slightly confused.

Harry holds the cluster towards Louis. “You didn’t want a banana then?”

“No, thanks, I’m good.” He smiles. “You’re a lot more alert now than before, really chipper. Did you get your morning coffee or what?”

Harry looks down and smiles to buy himself some time to think of a sane response.

“Uhh yeah, something like that” he says, smile going a bit manic. “Cold showers always help too!”

Louis bites his bottom lip at that comment, Harry notices, and gets caught looking at Harry’s neck and wet hair.

“Yeah, I bet it does” he mumbles, before coughing and looking away, cheeks pink again.

Harry smiles, flashing his dimples, and inches a bit closer. They stay in a comfortable silence like that, as Harry chews on the last bit of his banana before throwing the peelings in the bin. 

“What should we do now?” Louis then asks.

“I should call my manager, he usually handles this stuff. I’ve actually never been this involved”, he confesses.

“In hiring new people?” Louis asks innocently. Harry smirks.

“Maybe, yeah.” He looks around, confused. “I don’t know where I have put my phone though, can you call it?”

 

The signal goes off above them as Louis calls it, so he runs down the corridor and up the stairs easily, following the tune of David Bowie’s “Heroes” to find the mobile phone. Harry follows close behind, eyeing Louis’ sun kissed neck and definitely not checking out his bum as the shorter man takes two steps of stairs at a time.

“It’s from in here” Louis says outside Harry’s bedroom, quickly opening the door. A fraction of a second before he does so, Harry realises that particular room hasn’t been cleaned in a while and that this might not have been the smartest way to introduce Louis to his new employer.

The skylight let’s in the sun in a very unforgiving manner, highlighting everything Harry doesn’t want Louis to see. The floor is covered in clothes – there are very few inches of the room that’s not concealed with scattered silk shirts that sport obvious wine stains, or thin lace sweaters he had gotten from a photoshoot, or bedazzled velvet jackets. The satin sheets are halfway off the bed, stained with several indiscrete milky patches. Harry doesn’t know if he wants Louis to think he’s made them by himself or with other people – he can’t decide which one would be worse.

Louis doesn’t seem to flinch at any of it at first though, having tunnel vision in his quest to find Harry’s lost phone. He ends the call when he sees it, and picks it up from where it lies on the nightstand, right next to an old pocket mirror that’s covered in the powdery residues of Harry’s morning coffee.

Harry can see his face change as he eyes the room for a few seconds, and wants to slap himself in the face. How could he be this stupid? The sound of Louis clearing his throat bounces off the walls.

“Uhm… Right” he says.

Then he leaves the room, scurrying downstairs without another look at Harry. The taller lad rushes instantly after him.

“Louis, wait!” he shouts from the stairs, trying to catch up.

When he goes around the corner and gets to the kitchen he realises Louis is waiting for him right around where they had been standing just a few minutes earlier.

“Louis, I’m –“

Louis turns around, calmly, azure eyes penetrating Harry, making him break a sweat.

“Okay Harry, first off: I’m not naïve” Louis says, placing a firm finger on the counter. “I know how the industry works. It’s not my first time seeing a cocaine platter, I can assure you that much.”

Harry is taken a bit aback from that honesty, and forgets what he was trying to say. Instead he urges Louis to continue, nodding at him.

“And what you do is your business of course, I don’t have anything to say about that.”

He swallows and continues, laughing tiredly:

“I honestly most feel a bit stupid for not realising it sooner with the way you’ve been, and how you’ve acted around m–… Never mind”

Harry’s running mind stops at that. Did Louis think he’d acted the way he had only as a result of the dope?

“Louis, no, tha–“

“Anyway” Louis interrupts, holding out his hand. “I don’t want to be a part of it, okay? Believe it or not there are clean people in this town too, and I rather work for them. Even if they tend to be health freaks and anorexic instead” he adds, a bit under breath.

He doesn’t sound condescending as Harry thought he would, more tired, and perhaps a bit dejected and… disappointed?

Harry needs to fix this, Louis can’t think he’s been played. Or has he? Harry doesn’t even know his own intentions anymore, head spinning and beads of sweat running down his spine. All he knows is that he doesn’t want lose him. It’s an absolutely irrational feeling, he knows that, but still. He can’t lose Louis before he’s even gotten him. It’s instinct, and an urge.

“Fuck.” He says.

Louis looks confused, like that wasn’t the response he was expecting.

“Fuck what?”

“Fuck as in I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but what if I quit?”

“Quit? Like in quit doing drugs?”

“Yeah, I mean like the harder stuff? I don’t do it that much anyway”

A white lie never hurt anyone.

Louis snorts.

“Come off it Harry, it’s your life, I’m not asking you to change for me. That would be ridiculous. We don’t even know each other.” he says, clearly not taking Harry seriously.

Fuck this is not going according to plan, and the room is spinning.

“No no no but really, you’re – fuck, please can you just hand me some water?”

Harry interrupts himself, bending down over the counter, resting his forehead against the cool surface. Louis doesn’t ask, just hurries over and fetches him a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Thanks” Harry softly says as he takes the bottle and sits down on the floor. The kitchen table is way too far away. Louis sits down on the cold floor too, leaning against the wall opposite Harry.

“You’re already better than my last three assistants, you know” Harry jokes weakly, chugging the water. “And I don’t know why, but I trust you, okay? It’s hard to find normal people in this town. I know I’m not one of them.”

Louis just looks at him, thinking.

Harry eyes Louis some more through his locks before adding: “Plus you’re apparently already distinguished at calling me on my shit, so there’s that”

Louis is still quiet, as if he’s contemplating the pros and cons.

“Please Louis”

It’s something about the embarrassing honesty in Harry’s plea that seem to crawl under Louis’ skin.

“Fine. Okay. Fuck. I’ll work for you” he says, like he’s sacrificing himself, but the corners of his mouth gives him away.

Harry raises his fist in a victory pose.

“Fucking finally, thought I would have to beg on my knees to get you to work for me” he says, drinking the last of the water.

“Oh no, did I just give in too quickly? Would love to see you on your knees” Louis teases in a way that probably isn’t appropriate to do with your new boss, but neither of them really seem to care.

Harry scrambles for his phone, hitting up Niall in his contacts.

“Niall, hey! I’ve found a new assistant, I need you to fix the paperwork.”

As Niall blabbers on with a thousand questions and rules, Harry looks at Louis across from him.

 

He swears his racing heartbeat has nothing to do with the way Louis smiles at him.

 

**L**

 

When Louis rings the doorbell the next day, it barely takes three seconds before the door swings open; because this time, it’s not Harry answering.

“Louis Tomlinson?” a blonde man says, with a somewhat knowing smile.

“Ehm, yeah? Who are you?”

“Oh sorry, where are my manners – I’m Niall, Niall Horan” the man says with a strong Irish accent, reaching out his hand for a handshake. Louis takes his hand, and gets shaken vigorously.

“Come in, come in! Hopefully Harry will stop rambling on and on about you, finally” he laughs at a puzzled Louis.

“Sorry, what?”

“No no, forget I said that, just come on in. Harry’s in the kitchen. I got that contract for you by the way” Niall rambles on as Louis follows behind him through what can only be described as a grand entrance hall, tastefully decorated. Not the typical American Hollywood-type of furnishing, but more of an old school vintage-style, which clashed a bit with this kind of Beverly Hills-mansion. The darker colours, big patterned rugs and big paintings on the walls really fitted Harry though, Louis figured on his way to the kitchen.

Entering the bright room Louis’ breath is caught in his throat. Harry’s bent over the kitchen island reading something lying there, balancing on one Chelsea boot-clad foot, popping his hip. He’s wearing skin-tight black jeans and a fur-vest. Just. A. Fur-vest. He should look ridiculous, but Louis is quite convinced it’s the single hottest sight of his life.

“Louis, hi!” Harry greets him, standing straight, dimples on full display as he fires off a big smile at him. Louis has never seen his tattooed chest and arms so clearly before, and finds he’s lost the ability to close his mouth. It feels as if the room is closing in and the swallows on Harry’s chest watch him and judge his lack of character. Condescending bitches, Louis thinks.

“Uhm, hi Harry” he forces himself to say after a few seconds of awkward silence.

“There’s your contract” Niall says, sounding amused as he looks at the two of them and points at the papers Harry had been reading.

“Oh, right, great. Cheers” he mumbles as he walks over to stand beside Harry. The sudden urge to clasp Harry’s vest, claw his chest, lick the big butterfly taunting him and press his hand to Harry’s toned abs, just to feel how firm he is, surprises him.

What the fuck, get a fucking grip Tomlinson.

Louis skims through the contract, already knowing what most of it consisted of as he read it as a pdf earlier. The NDA was quite hefty, but nothing more than could be expected coming from such a big artist. He signs, and Niall grabs the contract 

“Good lad!” he says. “Nice to have you on board. Hope you last longer than the other ones”

“What?” Louis says curiously. Harry had mentioned the other one quitting over some incident, but other than that, he didn’t know anything about Harry’s former assistants.

“Yeah, Harry here has gotten quite a nack at scaring people off with his bloody shenanigans. Which means me having to do a lot more than my job description really inquires.” Niall says, having Harry blush. “Don’t worry bro, I don’t mind it too much. But still, it would be nice if Louis would stay.”

“I’m planning to” Louis smiles softly, looking at Harry, who is pouting, apparently a bit offended.

“Honestly, most of those other assistants were uptight idiots” Harry begins to defend himself.

“It’s natural not wanting to be barfed on” Niall says.

“That was one person, c’mon” Harry snorts.

“Or you know, having you remembering who they are”

“I was hungover, I–”

“Not finding you in bed with two oily–”

“I get the picture!” Louis quickly interrupts. Damn, what the hell has he gotten himself into? “I mean. I’m sure I can handle it. It’ll be good” he says, not knowing who he’s trying to convince. He feels Harry glancing over at him.

Niall clears his throat.

“Okay then lads, I’m off! It was nice to meet you Louis, you have my number if there’s anything you need” he says, shaking Louis’ hand again. “I’ll ring you later Harry”

“Yeah yeah” Harry says, giving Niall a quick hug goodbye.

 

When Niall leaves, the silence grows heavy in the kitchen.

“So, wanna show me around or something?” Louis says. “I’m going to get lost if I need to find my way around here on my own”.

Harry smiles, a bit surprised.

“Yeah, sure I guess” he says, gesturing for Louis to follow him out of the kitchen.

Harry shows Louis around the house, and it is as big as Louis had imagined, just from seeing it from the outside. The rest of the house follows the same interior style as the entrance hall, and Louis is fascinated to learn that it’s Harry who has decorated all of it.

“Fine, people built the furniture and hung up the paintings and shit, but I bought it all on my own” he says, showing Louis room after room after room.

“So what are you up to now that you’re not on tour? I bet you’re spending time in the studio or something like that, huh?” Louis attempts to make small talk as they walk down the stairs from the upper floor again.

“Uhm, no, not really” Harry says, not looking at him.

“Yeah, I suppose you need to take some time off before going at it again, huh?”

“Yeah, no actually, I… I kind of haven’t been writing for like… a year or so?” Harry mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

“What? Why?” Louis says, astounded, knowing that Harry wrote all his songs himself, and that he had released two Grammy-winning albums within the last two years.

“Haven’t felt inspired I guess” he shrugs, as he keeps his gaze down and leads the way towards the back of the house.

Louis follows him in silence, but stops by a door ajar that Harry passes by.

“What’s in here?” Louis asks, peeking inside.

“Just a living room, but it’s full of shit” Harry says, but Louis pushes the door open and looks over the room. Sure it’s messy, but with a big TV on the wall, opposite two big, black leather sofas. Heavy, red curtains hang over the windows, and the smell of dust almost has Louis sneezing. But still, there’s something alluring about the room.

“We should hang out here Haz” he says and enters.

“Haz?”

“This is nice. Good, big tv, comfy sofas, light cancelling curtains. What more could you possibly need?”

“Uhm, but it’s so messy?” Harry protests, weakly.

“But it’s you live-ing room Harry, it’s the whole point! You’re supposed to live in here! Fuck, I’m hungry, can’t we get something to eat, and then hang out in here?” Louis says, exiting the room again. He hopes Harry doesn’t find him annoying as he makes his way past him, but if this is gonna work he needs to act like he always does.

“Yeah, sure, I can cook if you want?” Harry says, following him back to the kitchen.

“You cook?” Louis asks with raised eyebrows.

“Of course, I love to cook. I uh, I actually used to be a baker.”

Louis could swear he saw Harry blush as the curly haired man’s features briefly softened during that endearing confession.

“Well then, get cooking mate, ‘cause I’m bloody starving!” Louis says, gesticulating towards the fridge as they enter the kitchen, before hopping up on the kitchen island. Was that a smile on Harry’s lips?

Harry hurries to his room to grab a “t-shirt” he says, and within seconds he’s rushing back into the kitchen wearing a see-through grey shirt, buttoned just above his navel. Louis can’t help but gawk at him, mouth dry.

He starts taking out ingredients from the cabinets as Louis babbles on about his family. Telling Harry about how he, his mother and his four sisters moved from Doncaster in England to Oxnard when Louis was 13 years old. Babbling about being the petite, flamboyant new kid in school with a broad Yorkshire accent, as Harry boils water for pasta and throws together a tomato sauce.

“So you can imagine, I was very popular” Louis jokes, dangling with his legs from the platform he’s sat on. “How about you? You’re British too?”

Harry merely shrugs his shoulders, stirring in the pots.

“Yeah, I am.”

“When did your family move here then?” Louis continues.

“They didn’t. I moved here when I was 16 and I got signed” he says in a low, nonchalant tone.

“What, are you serious? But I’m guessing your family visit you a lot?” Louis gasps, imagining how lost and small he would’ve felt amidst the fame and attention in California at the mere age of 16 without his mother, suddenly feeling very protective over Harry.

“Nah, not really, once a year maybe?” Harry says while Louis’ still sat upon the kitchen island, gaping at him. “It’s no big deal. Hand me those carrots.” He says, sounding happier and smiling at Louis. Louis takes the hint and changes the subject.

 

Louis scrapes the last of the tomato sauce from his plate with the edge of his knife, licking it up.

“You know what I mean, it’s a bit of a weird job, you know? Like Niall’s job description is a lot clearer than mine. The contract literally says, ‘whatever services Mr Styles may need you perform, within reasonable boundaries’, like what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Louis says, taking a sip from his diet coke. “I mean, of course I trust you, I don’t expect it to be anything too shady, but still.”

“It depends a bit I guess?” Harry laughs, looking at him. “If I was on tour you’d be going with me, making sure I was at the right place, at the right time and stuff like that. But now when I’m on break, I guess it’s more… simplistic? Like going shopping, reading my emails, keeping track of my meetings. Keeping me company.”

Louis laughs at the latter.

“Yeah, as if you’ll need me for that” he says. The look on Harry’s face tells him that he wasn’t joking about, and Louis can physically feel his heart sink. “I like hanging with you though, what a sick job.”

Harry smiles at him, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Louis resists the urge to reach out and pet his cheek.

“C’mon, let me put these in the washer and we can go and be “simplistic” and watch TV, hmm?” he says, standing up and grabbing his plate as well as Harry’s. “Or do you have video games?” 

Harry brushes his hair away, combing through it with his fingers, and smiles - for real this time.


	4. Chapter 4

**H**  

Over the weeks that follows, Harry realises that hiring Louis as his personal assistant is both the smartest and the dumbest thing he has ever done.

Since Harry’s not touring or recording at the moment due to his official break, there isn’t an plethora of things to do, but Louis’ constant presence still makes a huge difference. He seems to excel at every task, everything from keeping Harry’s schedule in order with personal trainers and meetings Niall keeps insists on him attending, to staying on top of his emails (including the extra ones that slipped through from Niall), which is still far too much for Harry to handle.

Apart from mastering everything Harry throws his way, being fast and efficient, Louis brings something else too. Despite the short period of the time they have known each other, it feels as if Harry has known him all his life. Almost like an old friend. Louis’ like someone he’s always known, but just hasn’t talked with for a while – a missing piece. The sense of familiarity should scare Harry, cause it usually did. He had always hated feeling safe and secure, but with Louis it was different.

Harry needs Louis even closer. 

When they spend time together, they’d either be lying on opposite ends of the sofa, or Louis would be sat up on the kitchen island – as he always does - talking fast while Harry cooks lunch, Harry’s insides don’t itch as much as they used to do. Instead, Louis has gradually replaces the cold empty spaces with an unfamiliar kind of warmth. Harry finds himself laughing a lot more because of Louis, who coaxes it out of him with his crude and clever sense of humour. One day, he found himself snorting out coffee from his nostrils after Louis had said some comment about Kendall while they were watching TV together, and Harry can’t recall laughing like that since when he was a child. He has almost stopped doing coke all together too, something he hadn’t been able to for the last five years (not that he had been trying, really, but still).

But fact remains, and becomes clearer every day, that Harry is crushing on Louis, and crushing hard. He has known it from the beginning but Harry had just figured it’d go away once they got to know eachother and he thought he’d scare Louis away anyway, but instead it was quite the opposite. Louis is always there and, as Harry soon learned, he is quite a physical person. Louis is always hugging him, braiding his curls or throwing his legs over Harry’s whenever they sit in the couch watching TV together.

The biggest problem with hiring an assistant he is deeply attracted to, Harry realises, is to not being able to sleep with said assistant.

Even though he finds himself believing that Louis might possibly feel for him as he does for Louis, it would be unethical. And apart from his past experiences, ethics are suddenly very important to Harry these days. Apparently. He doesn’t want to scare Louis off. Louis, who is so good at what he does for Harry, and who on top of that he’s becoming such good friends with, and…

Harry is scared. And he’s scared of being scared. So he tells himself it’s cool, it’s nothing, it will go away. Eventually, it’ll be fine… Right?

When Harry can’t sleep, tossing and turning in his too big a bed, he tells himself it’s not worth losing Louis over sexual tension. He tells himself that Louis’ more valuable as a friend. He won’t lose him; he _can’t_ lose him.

Then he tells himself living in this state of sexual frustration and happy misery for the rest of his days is something he can do when it comes to Louis. 

While Louis has numbed Harry’s constant itch for highs, he has instead stirred up something Harry hasn’t felt in all his life. _Longing._

                                                                  

**L**

When Louis walks in through the kitchen door one afternoon, a few weeks after getting hired, carrying Harry’s calendar and dry cleaning (all those damn sheer shirts really couldn’t stand the washing machine apparently), he hears loud muffled voices from upstairs. Did Harry have company? Should he leave?

But no, he had texted Louis to come over and go over next week’s meetings, so it’s be unprofessional to leave since he’s meant to be talking to Harry. Louis hangs the pile of dry cleaning over a kitchen chair, and hurries up the stairs.

“What do you mean you threw it out, what’s happening to you man?” Louis hears a man say in Harry’s bedroom.

“I mean I was sick of it, so I threw it out, what part of that don’t you get?” Harry says. “It’s not like you paid for it you cheap fuck, so you’ve got no reason to be mad.”

Upon hearing Harry’s stern voice, Louis’ feet remain frozen stuck outside the bedroom door, not knowing what to do next.

“I’m not mad bro, I just don’t recognize you anymore! When did you become so boring?” the man says, laughing.

Louis instantly hates that laugh. How the hell could he call Harry boring when he yesterday made Louis laugh to the point where he was wheezing on the floor, tears streaming down his face? Louis decides to put an end to the conversation, so he softly walks down a few steps of the stairs, and walk up them again, much louder this time.

“Harry? Are you up here?” he shouts.

Almost instantly, the door to Harry’s bedroom swings open. Harry’s stood in one of his many patterned shirts and white jeans, and a few feet behind him is a slightly shorter man with a buzzcut and stubble.

“Hi Louis!” Harry greets him, sounding much happier than he did a few seconds ago. “This is my best mate, Liam.”

At that, Louis takes Liam’s hand for a quick handshake.

“You texted me to come over for planning?” Louis says, still sending glances over at Liam, squinting.

“Yeah, of course, sorry, let’s go downstairs.”

Louis takes the lead, and swears he hears Liam mumble something along the lines of “is that him?” He waits for them in the kitchen, picking up the calendar again.

“I guess I should leave you two to your cosy meet-up then” Liam says, as he enters the kitchen. “Wouldn’t wanna intrude on your Louis-time, hm?”

“I’m sorry if I interrupted anything, I can leave–” Louis frowns.

Harry interrupts him, joining them in the bright room.

“You’re not going anywhere, Liam’s just being a proper asshole” he sneers at his mate.

“I thought you liked those?” Liam snickers.

“You didn’t interrupt anything Louis. Go wait in the living room, I’ll be right there” Harry says, again with a much softer facial expression when looking at Louis.

Louis leaves the kitchen, but walks at a much slower pace once he’s out of sight and it’s enough to hear a muffled, mocking laugh from Liam, saying:

“My god, could you be more gone for him? Is that why you’re changing so much?”

 

Harry slumps down on the couch around five minutes later, his knee nudging Louis’ foot, an arm thrown over the headrest.

“So… That was Liam” Louis says, curling up in the corner, nudging his bare feet under Harry’s thighs, shoes left on the floor.

“Yeah, he’s not that much of an ass usually, he’s actually really nice, it’s just…”

Louis waits for an answer that doesn’t come.

“He doesn’t like me much, huh?” Louis asks, and Harry shakes his head slowly, pursing his lips. “What have you said about me, Styles?” Louis’ only joking about, but tries to keep his tone as stoic as possible.

Harry looks terrified.

“No, no, I swear to god, I’ve only said nice things, maybe too much I guess, he says I never shut up about you and… Uhm… I mean…” Harry turns crimson; his features soften as he nervously begins to bite on his thumbnail.

“I’m joking Haz, c’mon” Louis laughs, kicking him on the leg.

“I think he thinks we spend too much time together or whatever. Plus this clean part of me is kind of new to him, I guess.”

“And that’s my fault” Louis nods.

“No. I mean, yes, in a way, but it’s not your fault, I’m glad actually, but, yeah–”

“Honestly Harry, you need to calm down. I’m not that easily offended.” Louis says. “He’ll come around”

Harry smiles, and allows Louis to put his feet under his thighs again.

“Your feet are always bare.” He states, thumbing over Louis ankle for se brief moment. “You don’t like shoes or socks huh?”

Louis laughs at the observation. “No I suppose not. Depends on the moment” he shrugs, and returns to the planning with a smile on his face.

“So, this meeting with Saint Laurent Paris is in a few weeks.” Louis states, picking up the calendar and browses through it.

“Oh, great, I’m actually quite excited about that, I love their clothes.” Harry says enthusiastically.

“Is the deal that you’re gonna model for them?” Louis asks.

“Niall said they were hinting about it, but I don’t know. They usually have much skinnier models, the whole heroine chic-thing you know? Maybe they won’t want me if I’ve quit” Harry mumbles, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Hey now, stop that” Louis says, kicking him a bit again. “Of course they’ll want you, you’re like the hottest guy ever, heroine chic or not, now come off it”. Louis looks down at his notes, determined not to look at Harry after he realises what he’s just said. If he would, he might have seen Harry’s cheeks turn another shade of red.

 

**H &L**

Two empty beer bottles and a family size pizza-box with only parts of the crust left inside lie on Harry’s living room floor. He still didn’t understand Louis’ weakness for the room, but since he does like it so much and seems so content, there’s no need for Harry to argue. He could live wherever and however if he had Louis next to him. As he does now.

Okay, so some would say that their working relationship was unprofessional and weird. Harry prefers to call it a bit unorthodox. For example, after they thanked the delivery guy, Harry gave Louis a piggyback ride back to the living room from the main door while Louis attempted to balanced the warm and slightly greasy pizza box on Harry’s head. And now, as they are full on cheese and peperoni, Louis has his legs sprawled over Harry in the couch, who for some reason is giving him a foot rub.

“Honestly, is it you who are working for me, or me for you?” Harry jokes, rolling his eyes while pressing down on Louis’ right foot with the pads of his fingers.

Louis smiles with his eyes closed as he’s laying down across the big sofa, humming a bit.

“C’mon I deserve this, I’ve worked so good all week.” Louis argues, stretching with his arms above his head.

“You have” Harry agrees.

“And pizza was my idea, and that was a stroke of genius” he continues.

“It was” Harry nods.

“Plus you don’t mind doing it, don’t you?” Louis says cheekily, peeking up at Harry with one eye open.

“I don’t” Harry answers nodding after a few seconds, blushing a bit and smiling until his dimples were on display.

They sit in silence for a while, Harry working at Louis’ feet methodically, before Louis sits up, leaning at the opposite end of the black leather sofa from Harry.

“Haz, do you want to come out?” he asks bluntly.

They haven’t talked about this since Harry brought it up in the bar the first time they met. Louis’s unabashed curiosity could offend him; it is really none of his business, right? But instead Harry feels warm, and cared for.

“Uhm, yeah I guess? Like if I ever am in a serious relationship or something” he says.

Louis nods.

“Oh, okay. That’s nice.”

Harry is slightly annoyed with the lack of response.

“The label has promised that I can come out when I do have a partner, right? It’s just that it doesn’t work to come out as a single rocker or something, I don’t know” he says, making his case. The label wasn’t that off, really.

“Oh, so do you want to come out when you have a partner cause that feels right for you, or because that’s when the label says it’s alright?” Louis asks, eyebrows raised.

“I… don’t know. Both, I think?”

Harry was starting to feel confused. Louis scoots closer and puts a soft hand on his wrist, looking him in the eyes.

“You should only come out when you want to, no one else should have any say in that, not me or Niall or the label, okay?”

Harry hums in agreement, inspecting his hands.

“How did you come out?” he asks quietly after a few seconds.

“Me? It’s no story, really” Louis starts, but the silent plea in Harry’s green eyes makes him keep talking. “I had it easier than most, I’d say. I had always been crushing on boys, ever since kindergarten, and always told my mum about it, so when I got my first boyfriend when I was like 15 she wasn’t surprised. Guess some people in school were mean about it, but I had friends who stood up for me, so it was okay, I guess. But of course, it’s always that awkward phase in collage when you think you might be bi or whatever, really wanting to fit in.” Louis shrugs.

Harry nods, not looking at Louis, deep in thought.

“How did your family react? I guess they know?” Louis asks softly.

He is curious about Harry’s family, cause the curly haired boy who’s wrist pulses underneath his fingertips never talks about them.

“Yeah yeah, they know, of course.” Harry doesn’t look like he wanted to talk more about it, and Louis doesn’t want to press him.

After a few seconds of silence Harry asks:

“Hey, can’t we go out tonight?”

Louis frowns, confused.

“What, really? I thought you wanted to stay in?”

“Yeah but I’m already bored” Harry sighs theatrically, slumping back further into the couch.

“Excuse me, are you calling me boring Harold? ‘Cause I resent that” Louis snorts, crossing his arms over his chest, looking at him challengingly.

Harry’s face falls, scared of having offended Louis for real.

“No, of course not, I always have fun with you, but I need to get out of the house and dance or something, please?” He’s talking twice as fast as than he usually does.

Louis just eyes him.

“Please please please” he says, fluttering his eyelashes.

“What are you begging me for, it’s you who pay my salary, not the other way around, you know” he teases. Harry’s smile grows big, knowing that Louis is on board.

“Great!” Harry stands up from the couch, stretching his back. “I need to shower and change, can you call Niall and Liam?”

“Yeah, sure, but I need to change too, I don’t want to go out in this ratty old hoodie” Louis complains, picking on his grey hoodie with the words “British rouge” splayed across the chest.

“No? You look hot in that, don’t worry”

Louis blushes a bit, but sticks his nose in the air, faking an insulted face.

“Excuse me, Harold, I don’t wear whatever when I go clubbing, thank you very much”

“Can’t you borrow anything from me then? Or ask Niall to bring something over? I don’t want you to leave” Harry pouts, putting his puppy eyes to good use. Louis could never resist those.

“C’mon lad, you know that’s not fair.” He says, defensively.

Harry’s lip starts shaking.

“Fine!” He throws up his hands in the air. “Fine, I’ll steal something from you. Shiny shirts aren’t usually my thing, but I guess I can make anything work.”

“You can” Harry agrees; lending Louis a hand to help him up, which Louis takes.

Harry accidently drags him up with a little too much force, finding himself with Louis flush against his chest, giggling.

“Oh, oops, sorry” Harry says, looking down at Louis, who meets his eyes. He can’t quite seem to let go of Louis’ dainty hand.

Heart to heart, thump thump thump. Harry feels like he should say something, or step away, or kiss him, but he can’t do any of those things. Louis draws a shaky breath, looking from Harry’s eyes to his lips and back up again.

“... I-“ he whispers, leaning a bit closer.

 

_We could be heroes, just for one day_

 

They practically jump apart as Harry’s phone starts ringing. Louis scratches his neck and coughs when Harry answers.

“Hi Niall” he says, louder than usual. “Yeah, no, sorry, I was just about to call you actually. Feel like going out tonight?” 

 

After hanging up with Niall, Harry gets in the shower, and Louis calls Liam to invite him too. Then he starts the very difficult task of sorting through Harry’s huge walk in closet in search of something fitting to wear. Sure, he could go with a simple t-shirt, but since all these high end-fashion pieces are at his disposal, Louis feels like he should be a bit more daring. As he’s dragging his fingers through the rows of silk shirts and satin jackets, Harry walks in, wearing nothing but grey boxer briefs.

“Did you find anything?” he asks, drying his curls with a towel.

“Not yet, I’m looking… Liam couldn’t come by the way, think he had a date?”

“Really? With who?”

“No idea mate, he didn’t say. What are you wearing? Help me.”

Harry puts on a pair of black skinny jeans before looking through his shelves.

“I might go with…” he pulls out a yellow shirt with big red flowers on it, holding it up for Louis “this?”

Louis wrinkles his nose. Harry laughs.

“No? What would you have me wear then?” he challenges.

Louis snaps a black, see-through shirt off a hanger.

“This one is nice, wear this one” he demands, and Harry happily obeys, buttoning it.

“Don’t button it too high!” Louis blurts out when Harry goes for the fourth button. “Ehrm, I mean, it doesn’t go with your whole rock star-look, you know?”

Harry raises his brows but doesn’t say anything, and leaves the shirt buttoned with only the three bottom ones.

“Ok, but I get to pick your clothes then… You should wear…” he bites his lip, contemplating which piece of clothing to go with. A smug smile creeps up on his lips.

“What?” Louis is curious now.

“You should wear this!” Harry says, holding up a black shirt, unusually simple compared to the rest of Harry’s wardrobe, with the word “Styles” embroidered on the chest.

Louis rolls his eyes smiling, taking the shirt from Harry.

“My god, could you be more full of yourself?” he asks as he takes of his hoodie and t-shirt and starts unbuttoning the shirt. Harry feels his pulse race and mouth go dry as he, not very discreetly, ogles Louis’ naked upper body. His chest hair is just enough to make him look proper manly, and his stomach is soft and very, very kissable.

“…Right? Don’t you agree Harry?”

“Uhm, sorry, agree on what?”

Louis giggles, buttoning the last of the shirt, rolling up the sleeves.

“Never mind, mate” he says, turning to look at his figure in the full body mirror. “I must say I wear a Styles-shirt rather splendidly, don’t you think?” he meets Harry’s eyes in the mirror.

“You look amazing” is all Harry can manage when he’s internally fighting the urge to wrap his arms around Louis’s waist from behind and kiss the nape of his beautiful neck.

Harry puts on socks and a pair of golden boots, just as they hear Niall yelling hello from the kitchen. They both choose to ignore the Irish man’s amused looks directed at the shirt Louis is wearing.

 

 

Justin Bieber is loudly wondering what someone is meaning when Harry, Louis and Niall make their way into Harry’s favourite club through the back entrance. The staff is discreet and it usually isn’t a problem to stay under the radar pap-wise while getting drunk here. Perfect, both Harry and Niall thought.

The DJ switches songs with a smug look on his face, loving the attention he’s getting up on his platform. The base shakes the floors and walls and ceilings, and Louis feels like dancing.

“You must dance with me tonight Harry, just so you know” he shouts over the music, and Harry smiles.

“Only if we’re hammered. Go get a table, I’ll get us a few shots.”

The term ‘a few’ is up to interpretation, Louis figures, as Harry comes back with a whole tray of shots, saying “I told them to bring over drinks too”.

Niall has gotten them a VIP-table out of display, and already has two beautiful women on his arms, whispering in their ears.

Harry rolls his eyes.

“He’s always like this. Acts like a blonde little cherub, but he’s really just the devil” he says, making Louis giggle.

“They don’t seem to mind though,” Louis says, eyeing them across the table for a few seconds, before handing Harry a shot.

“Cheers mate” he says, clinking their shot glasses together.

Harry could swear Louis’ eyes are actual stars. 

Louis excuses himself to go to the bathroom a while later, and comes back looking like he’s ready to commit murder.

“God I fucking hate people” he grits through his teeth.

“What happened?” Harry wonders, scooting over to give Louis room.

“Some fucking idiot groped me at the urinal? Who gave him the fucking right? I was this close” he gesticulates with his thumb and index finger “to punching him”

“What?” Harry shouts, banging his fist in the table, causing one of Niall’s girls send him a nasty look. “Who was it?” he snarls.

Louis puts a hand on Harry’s arm.

“Calm down Harry, I told him off anyways. I’m just so fucking tired of guys groping my ass and calling me a bottom, fuck this shit” he says, sipping on a drink that had been delivered while he was away.

Harry loses the ability to breathe. They’ve never inched this close to that subject before.

“Uhh, was that why he did it?” he says, trying to sound casual, downing another shot.

“Yeah, he was like ‘Hi baby, aren’t you good at taking it up the ass, I can see you’re a natural’” Louis mimics a sleazy voice, pushing himself at Harry to show the scenario, before returning to his appletini.

“I mean I mostly bottom, but he can’t know that, and there’s more to me than my bloody ass, fucking idiots” he grumbles.

Harry, needing to make Louis happy again, scoots the shots tray over to him.

“Fuck them Louis, they don’t deserve a second of your time, okay? Let’s get hammered and dance instead” he says, which makes Louis’ face light up a bit.

 

After downing one two three shots in a row, Harry laughs, leaning on Louis’ shoulder.

“We shouldn’t drink more now” Louis slurs, sipping on his third drink.

Harry just laughs at him again.

“I’m hardly drunk, silly, I hold my liquor way better than you, pygmy man” he whispers close to Louis’ ear.

“What did you call me?” Louis laughs, smacking Harry’s upper arm, before standing up. “Let’s go dance” he grins, dragging Harry up from his seat.

“Don’t be fucking seen, you idiots” Niall calls, taking his attention away from the model in front of him for a second. The other girl has apparently left for some reason.

“I’ve done this before” Harry answers, dragging Louis by the hand out on the dance floor.

The dance floor is crowded. So Harry lets Louis step in front of him, guiding the shorter boy to a good spot with his hands on Louis’ narrow shoulders.

“It’s easier not to be spotted if we’re in the middle of the floor” he says right in Louis’ ear, who simply nods and pliantly let’s himself be led.

Harry stops them after a while, allowing them to be surrounded by people who pay no attention to them. He loves it, and focuses on Louis instead of being paranoid. They dance a few feet apart, and Louis laughs at Harry’s sad attempts at twerking. However, the people around them keeps pushing them together, so absorbed by their own dancing, having no consideration for personal space.

The third time they’re pushed together, they simply don’t step apart. Instead, Louis wraps an arm around the back of Harry’s neck, bringing his head down, having them dance tight together with their foreheads connected. Something in Harry’s chest is burning as Louis smiles up at him under hooded eyes, looking into his, green meeting blue. Pearls of sweat glistens on Louis’ chest and he’s never looked so pretty before, the Styles-shirt clinging damp to his body.

Louis draws his eyes away, fluttering his long eyelashes at Harry, before turning around so his back is pressed up against Harry’s chest. He moves his hips to the rhythm of the music, leaning his head back on Harry’s muscular shoulder. Harry can’t help but sneak an arm around Louis’ waist, pulling him flush against him, not wanting him to step away from the contact. The other arm is running up and down Louis’ side, teasing. Louis puts his arm back around Harry’s neck, forcing his head forward, breathing heavily on his slumped throat. Louis rolls his hips, grinding back at Harry’s crotch, and he can feel himself grow harder by the second. His dick is almost hurting, straining against the fabric, and the thought that there are only a few thin layers between him and heaven has Harry feeling dizzy.

 

Actually very dizzy. Is the air running out?

“Louis, I-“ he says, releasing his grip of the shorter man.

“Yeah?” Louis asks a bit confused, looking dazed. Harry can see he’s hard too, but that’s the last thing he notices before he throws up on the dance floor, vomit splashing up at the surrounding people.

_“What the fuck man?!”_

_“Euw gross!!”_

_“Oh my god how can people be this fucked!!”_

 

**L**

People starts yelling, and a voice somewhere under all that alcohol and hormones tells Louis that this is really fucking bad, and that he needs to get Harry away from all these people before they notice that the person who just got sick on them is a world famous singer. He hitches one of Harry’s arms over his not so broad shoulders, and steadies him with an arm around his waist, before getting them away from the crowd.

“Niall!” Louis shouts over the music as they get back to their friend. “Niall, he threw up on the dance floor, we seriously need to leave right now.”

Harry has quickly gotten a lot more drunk than just a little, and is now swaying on the spot, looking like he’s gonna fall over.

“Fuck, that is bad” Niall gets over to them and supports Harry from the other side, looking around. “In here!”

He leads them through a door beside the bar, and they find themselves in a too brightly lit corridor. Niall dives in his pocket after his phone.

“We need to get out of here, he can’t be seen like this again” he says before stepping away, calling their driver. 

Louis looks at Harry, who is standing on wobbly legs against the wall, dopily smiling with hair in his face and vomit on his trousers. Louis tucks a few strands of hair behind his ear and somehow still finds him adorable.

“Louis…. Looouuiiiiis….” Harry whispers, giggling. Louis smiles.

“Yeah Harry?” stepping a bit closer.

Harry reaches out an arm, grabbing for Louis’ hand, wanting him closer.

“You’re so amazing Louis, you make me feel so good and alive Louis” he slurs.

It hurts a bit to think that it’s only the alcohol talking.

“Yes yes, when you’re drunk off your ass maybe” Louis jokes.

Harry’s smile falters, and he pouts like child.

“No! No, that’s not what I meant, I mean it, Louis, I really do” he starts to ramble, as Niall rushes back.

“I’ve got the car around back, if we just walk down this corridor we can go right now.”

 

They hurry as much as Harry allows them to, as he stumbles between them and giggles far too loud. Niall sighs, wanting the safety of a car with tinted windows.

A guy with a buzz cut is halfway through a cigarette when they open the door and step out in the alley behind the club. He looks like he’s trying to place the curly haired man with vomit-sprayed jeggins, but shrugs and returns to his smoke. 

Aside from buzz cut man; there is no one to be seen. Both Niall and Louis sigh in relief, and shuffle Harry out the door and in to the black SUV waiting right outside. They made it without a major media meltdown.

 

The stress of leaving the club has sobered up both Niall and Louis, who go to sit by the windows, planning to have Harry in between them. Harry on the other hand is two seconds away from unconsciousness and falls asleep over their laps in the broad town car. Niall makes a face at the gross trousers he has in his lap, while Louis gently wipes the damp hair out of Harry’s sleeping face.

He can feel Niall looking at him curiously, and he blushes, refusing to meet the blonde man’s eyes.

“You know, he’s really quite fond of you” Niall says. “I’ve never seen him look like anyone the way he looks at you”.

Louis stays quiet, but can’t seem to stop himself from smiling.

“See, you like him too” Niall states so easily, as if commenting on the weather. “Honestly, you should just get it over with and fuck already”.

He laughs at Louis’ red cheeks, before turning to his phone and texting the girl he had left in a hurry at the club.

 

Louis looks out at the night sky and bright Los Angeles-skyscrapers dancing past them as the car hurries down the road. He pets Harry’s cheek, trying not to wish that he dared doing so when he is awake as well.

 

**L**

Louis wakes up at 11.30 the next day, to four missed calls from and thirteen text messages, all from Harry.

 

**What the hell happened last night**

**Omg just found my pants euw what did I do**

**Are you mad at me?**

**Fuck, you hate me right, I fucked this up didn’t I**

**I’m sorry if I said anything, I didn’t mean it probably**

**Thanks for the glass of water next to the bed btw I’d be dead otherwise**

**Please tell me you’re just asleep and not deliberately ignoring me**

**Louiiiiis**

**Cmon Louis, I need you**

**I double your pay if you’re not mad at me**

**Was that offensive? I promise this shit doesn’t happen often ok**

**Never again**

**Louis!!!**

 

Louis smiles, a bit too pleased with Harry’s fear of losing him. He yawns as he facetimes Harry, who picks up on the first signal.

“Oh thank god, there you are” Harry blurts out as soon as he picks up. His face is pale, with dark circles under his eyes, and a wrinkled forehead.

“Calm your tits Hazza, it’s not even noon, what are you even on about?” Louis says, smiling lazily.

Harry pouts, lips red and dry.

“I feel like I made an absolute ass out of myself yesterday” he mumbles “I just remember parts of it, but I never wanted you to see me like that and-“

Louis interrupts him.

“Harry, love, breathe” he says, carefully watching Harry’s worried face. “Calm down. I’m not mad or anything”

“...No?” Harry asks warily.

“No of course not, you just had too much. And besides throwing up on a few startled clubbers, you didn’t do anything too crazy.” Louis can’t help but smile a bit as he thinks of the events from the night before. “Nothing I didn’t enjoy anyway”

“Yeah? You sure?” Harry asks again, needing to be properly convinced, but his face looking calmer than just seconds ago.

“Yes, I am. Let it go, Styles, ok? Worry about your hung over little body instead”

Harry laughs, and then wincing at his aching head.

“Fine, I will.” he says, pausing for a few seconds before he continues: “You wanna come over? Watch movies, eat pizza? We can watch Captain America” Harry wiggles his eyebrows.

Louis’ smile grows big before he sighs.

“Fuck, it sounds perfect, I wish I could Haz. But I’m meeting Lottie, promised her we’d go shopping today.” Louis hates how Harry manages to look so disappointed on such a small screen. “Kinda hate myself for making that promise now to be honest, would be much nicer to cuddle up with you on the sofa, rather than be around screaming kids that are on a sugar high at the mall.”

Harry laughs again at that, and Louis tries not to be too content with the sound. He fails tremendously.

“Yeah, that’s fine, I understand. Say hello to her for me.”

“I will.” Louis fumbles with words, and don’t want the call to end already. “But hey, can’t we hang out tomorrow? Do something at your place?”

Harry’s face lights up, dimples and teeth showing, if a bit pixelated.

“Yeah, of course! Come over around noon and I’ll cook lunch for you or something. I don’t have anything scheduled until next week right? We can just hang out?”

Louis think that’s hope in Harry’s voice, and he loves it.

“That’s correct, next thing in your calendar is that meeting with Saint Laurent on Wednesday if I’m not mistaken. But great Haz, it’s a plan, you cooking me lunch or whatever. Can’t wait” Louis grins. A small squeaky sound goes off. Louis is distracted for a few seconds before sighing again.

“Fuck, that was Lottie, she’s already on her way? I need to go shower, I fucking reek of hangover. Have a nice day Harry, don’t beat yourself up, okay?” Harry nods. “Great, see you tomorrow babe, bye” Louis rambles before ending the call.

 

Did he just say babe?

 

**H**

“Harry!” Louis calls out, barging in and slamming the kitchen door behind him. He never uses the main entrance anymore, always parking his car at the back of the house.

Harry walks down the stairs, buttoning a bright purple floral shirt.

“Yeah?” he asks, smiling at Louis when he sees him.

“I’ve got a thing for us to do during a miserable Sunday like this.” he says, sounding very pleased with his own brilliance. “We’re gonna clean your fucking living room!”

Harry’s smile falters a bit.

“Lou, that sounds bloody awful. Can’t we just watch movies?”

Louis just rolls his eyes and smacks Harry’s arm, dragging him to the cluttered room.

“Honestly Harry, this looks like shit, and you’ve said we should fix it for weeks now”

Looking out over the room he realise Louis has a point, it does look like shit. There’s box after box filled with sponsored clothes, stacks of newspapers, books thrown in heaps. Harry never used to be in here anyway, so it didn’t matter to him, but for some reason it is Louis’ favourite room in the whole house.

Why Harry cares that much about what his assistant thinks, he’d rather not think about.

“Fine” Harry whines, dragging out the “i”.

Louis chuckles. He sits down on the floor next to piles of magazines, as Harry throws himself on the sofa. 

“Ok, I’m starting here, so what’s this?” Louis asks.

“Oh, just old papers and stuff I’ve been in I guess, Niall always brings them over. You can just throw those out”

Louis looks at him as if he’s lost his mind, with theatrically wide eyes and his mouth open.

“No way in hell I am, not until I read them” he says, a dainty wrist over his chest.

Harry giggles, shrugging his shoulders, starting to go through the boxes of free clothes. Most of it is going to charity, but he knows he has thrown a burgundy pair of leather pants somewhere in here years ago, and he has such a good idea for a look to go with them now.

Louis doesn’t move from his spot on the floor, methodically going through the pile of magazines, saying things like “Damn, Rolling Stones, this is huge Harry, wow” and “Ohoo, don’t you look pretty dapper with a bare chest in Vanity Fair”.

 

A while later Louis speaks again.

“Harry…”

“Yeah?”

Harry stops what he’s doing and looks at Louis when he acknowledges that the playful tone in the smaller mans voice is replaces by something quite sad.

“Here, in GQ last year? You said your biggest dream was to ‘Join club 27, if I manage to live that long’”

Harry freezes. No one had ever confronted him about that. He remembers how Niall and Liam had been extra attentive when that issue came out, but they probably knew it wouldn’t do them any good to mention it to him.

“Uhm, yeah, you know, just trying to sound dramatic” Harry tries, laughing an empty sort of laugh that bounces off the walls.

Louis doesn’t say anything. Instead he looks at Harry, with those azure eyes, like he’s thinking. Contemplating. The next second, Louis gets up from his position on the floor, walks over to Harry and straddles his lap. He throws his arms around him, curling up close in a tight, desperate embrace. Like he’s a ring buoy and Harry is drowning. Harry takes the chance to be rescued, clasping on to Louis and breathing him in as he tucks hi head into crease of Louis’ neck. His hands are cramping from holding him so tight, but Harry doesn’t care. Louis warms him, supports him, and makes him feel at home. 

“I never want you to feel like that again” Louis whispers in his ear, holding him even closer, moving the tip of his nose up and down the spot behind Harry’s ear, nuzzling his hair. “I’m going to do whatever I can so you don’t ever have to feel like that again.”

Harry brushes his hands down Louis’s sides, moving with every breath in and out, stopping at the curve of his waist. Experiencing him, taking it all in, in case he only has a few seconds left of the closeness. Harry hides his face further into the crook of Louis’ tanned neck.

“I don’t feel like that when I’m with you” he mumbles.

He can feel Louis’ breath hitch, more than he can hear it, and the room comes back to sight as Louis draws away from him.

“W-what…?” Louis breathes, looking at him, eyes caressing his face.

“I- I’m sorry, I don-“

Harry doesn’t need to improvise an ending to that confused answer, for Louis cuts him off with a soft peck. Louis’ thin lips rests over Harry’s plump ones, giving them a moment to take it in, before he starts working his lips over Harry’s, like he can’t stand to wait another second. Harry gasps into it, overwhelmed, before he grips around Louis’ lower back, pulling him nearer. 22 years of longing in one kiss.

He wants to touch every single bit of Louis’ body, but settles for the soft part of his hips, gripping them with his long fingers. Louis buries his hands in Harry’s locks, slowly brushing through them, lingering.

Louis draws away a millimetre, their foreheads still pressed together, lips still gracing, breathing warm huffs over Harry, before closing the distance again. Louis kisses are faster now, more intense, prying Harry’s willing mouth open and having the boy underneath him practically mewl as their tongues touch for the first time. 

The sound of their lips smacking and their heavy breathing echoes in the room, but Harry doesn’t notice it. He’s lost his ability to hear, and he’s lost his eyesight. He can only smell and feel.

All he inhales is Louis, and his scent; a perfume, some kind of green apple shampoo, that… Louis quality.

And all he feels is Louis; Louis’ lips on his lips, Louis’ tongue over his tongue, Louis’ hands in his hair and on his chest, Louis thighs clasping onto his hips.

Harry pulls back, just far enough to be able to look Louis in the eyes; hands moving up to cup his face in both his hands.

“Oh god” he pants, and he can’t suppress a dumb smile from attacking his face, cause this is really happening. With Louis. He’s finally kissing Louis.

Louis smiles back at him, relieved, but longing to close the distance between their mouths again.

“I… What is happening?” Harry whispers, softly dragging his fingers through Louis’ short hair, stroking a thumb slowly over his temple and down along his cheekbone and jawline.

He’s beautiful, Harry thinks.

“I want you” Louis says, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Harry nods, enthusiastically. He can’t have Louis think that’s not what he wants.

“Not just today, or a little while. If I’m going in, it’s for the long run” Louis continues murmuring.

They’re big words. Louis must know they are, but he still says them so effortlessly.

Harry’s hands slowly fall to his sides.

“Is that what you want Harry?” Louis whispers, the silence scaring him.

Harry doesn’t need time to think. A part of him has waited for this his whole life, he just didn’t know it until a few weeks ago. He nods.

“I need you, Louis. So much.”

 

And just like that, Louis’ lips are back on his, and they’re both smiling into it. The two of them grin until their cheeks ache, and they can barely kiss properly, unable to contain their newfound happiness. But they can’t stop either. They can probably never stop kissing for the rest of their lives.

Because Harry doesn’t need air. He needs Louis. 

As he rucks up the back of Louis’ t-shirt, finally touching the soft skin of his lower back, Louis let’s out a soft moan. Like he’s been waiting for that touch as long as Harry has. He deepens the kiss, pushing Harry back against the cushions and grinds down.

Gasping, Harry’s hands fumble up over Louis’ back and to the sides, wanting to feel anything and everything all at once. Kissing his cheek and chin and neck and collarbones, groaning, while Louis keeps moving his hips on Harry’s lap.

Harry finds himself resting his forehead on Louis’ shoulder, covering Louis’ collarbone with his sighs, breathing slowly.

“Louis, I want to do this, I just…” he begins but cuts himself off. Can he?

“Yeah?” Louis breathes out, neither of them sure if it’s a question or a moan, kissing his hairline, still grinding down repeatedly, rhythmically.

Harry holds his breath and takes the plunge.

“I haven’t fucked anyone sober since I was 17” he blushingly admits. A truth that feels even heavier as it’s spoken out loud.

Louis stops moving in his lap, hurrying to hug Harry tight again.

“Harry…” He looks at him and kisses his forehead. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to” he says, stroking a strand of hair from Harry’s face.

Harry hurries to shake his head.

“No, no, I want this, I need you! I’ve fucking wanted this since the day I met you, but I… I don’t know how I’ll be.” 

Louis kisses him again. Brushing his lips lightly over Harry’s, like he’s painting a masterpiece.

“It’s impossible that you’re anything but perfect,” he simply states.

He goes back to kissing Harry, attacking him with his lips and tongue and hands and body, pinning Harry down on the couch, mending him. Harry grips him tighter, slides his hands down Louis’ back. He cups his arse, making Louis moan breathily in his mouth. Harry swallows hard.

“Sh-should we… go upstairs?” he asks, suddenly shy again.

 

Louis nods, loosing his grip around Harry’s neck, getting ready to stand up from the couch, when Harry grips him tight over the thighs and stands up, holding him. Louis let’s out a surprised “ooh!” before tightening his legs around Harry’s waist, hooking his ankles together and wrapping his arms back around Harry’s neck. Harry starts walking on a bit wobbly legs, achingly hard in his pants, Louis kissing him down the neck. Louis is quick and urgent, cause he’ll most certainly die if he stops. He latches on to Harry’s mouth again, and it’s challenging to balance while going up the stairs with a horny Louis devouring his face, doing what he can to make Harry come on the spot. But Harry actually manages to take them rather quickly (a boner does that to a man, he figures) to his bedroom, without dropping Louis or injure any vital body parts on the way.

He stops by the foot of the bed, and Louis untangles his legs and graciously stands in front him. For a second, maybe two, they just stand like that, close, taking each other in. Then Louis is on his toes, kissing Harry again, as Harry snakes his hands under his t-shirt, in a hurry to take it off. Louis follows, and unbuttons Harry’s silky shirt with fumbling fingers, throwing the expensive piece of clothing in a pile on the floor.

Harry’s chest is hot and broad and smooth against Louis, enveloping him. Louis could feel Harry’s back muscles move under his fingertips, and shudders from the sensation. Louis drags his fingers across Harry’s zipper, who latches onto his mouth again, desperate moans escaping him now, as he goes to do the same on Louis. 

The characteristic noise of a zipper being opened almost has Louis giggling, but the laughter dies in his throat as he feels Harry slip a big hand inside the back of his underwear, squeezing. He palms Harry, feels how hard he is beneath that thin layer of his boxers, and how warm. 

It’s when Harry sneaks a finger between his cheeks that Louis almost comes on the spot. Instead he leans against Harry, panting against his chest, clawing at his neck.

“Oh my fu-..” he whimpers.

“Take off your pants and lie down, babe” Harry breathes in Louis’ ear, before kissing his temple and taking the hand out of his pants. As he sits down on the edge of the bed to take off his pants, Harry rummages in a drawer, coming back with a bottle of lube and a condom. 

Both of them now naked, they scoot up on the bed, quickly tangling together, forgetting which limbs belong to whom.

“G-god, I’ve fantasized so much about this” Louis moans when Harry sucks a red, wet love bite above the 78-tattoo on his chest.

“Yeah? What have you been thinking of?” Harry breathes at his neck, kissing up behind his ear, moving his slender fingers inside Louis.

“Of this, of your lips and hands and fing–…fuck!”

Louis breaks off in a high moan when Harry adds another digit. He traces his dainty hand down Harry’s toned stomach, teasing his treasure trail. They move in unison, like they’ve done this a thousand times, hot breaths over each other.

“I’m so fucking ready” Louis says after a while, and sits up over Harry, slowly sinking down. All Harry can do is watch, sliding his hands over Louis’ sides and back, observing Louis’ tense face as he’s adjusting. He finds himself so mesmerized by this amazing individual, with an already sweaty fringe sticking to his forehead and a face so open and uncontrolled. Harry feels like he must be the luckiest man alive who gets to witness it.

 

After adjusting, Louis starts moving his hips, slowly, dragging moans out of both of them. He plants his hands on Harry’s chest and smiles down a bit at him, while he keeps rolling on him. Harry can’t stand being so far away from him though, so he sits up, forcing their mouths together again, having missed the feeling of Louis’ tongue sliding along his.

“I’ve thought about this so much too” Harry pants over Louis’ face, clawing at Louis’ back. “What it would be like to be this c-close.”

He can’t help but moan again, because Louis is riding him like no one ever has.

“Yeah?” Louis smiles, panting against his lips, grinding down “Is it how you imagined?”

“A thousand times better, I- Louis, fuck!” he groans.

Louis picks up the speed, pushing Harry down on the bed again, chanting Harry’s name.

“Fuck, Louis, I’m go-gonna come if you keep- ” Harry breathes, which only makes Louis go faster and with more determination.

He smiles and leans down until their chests are flush against each other and Louis’ mouth is against Harry’s ear.

“Come for me baby” he smiles, looking down at Harry’s face as that comment pushes him over the edge. The sensation of Harry’s release, combined with him repeating Louis’ name over and over again as if it is a prayer, makes Louis come all over Harry’s stomach and chest without either of them touching him. Louis pants hard against his neck, before slowly rolling off.

“Oh my…”

“…God”

 

After a few minutes, Harry goes up to fetch a washcloth from the en suite, and cleans them quickly before laying beside Louis again. Louis curls up against him, resting his cheek on Harry’s hairless chest, giving it a soft peck.

“I can’t believe this finally happened,” Louis murmurs.

Harry shifts so they lay face to face on the pillow, and rests his large hand in Louis’ curved waist. He tries, but fails embarrassingly so, to supress a smile. Louis matches it, poking at a dimple.

“I’ve wanted this for so fucking long” Harry says softly.

“Why are we such idiots? We could have been doing that for a month” Louis scoots closer, giving Harry’s nose a little kiss. “I know I’ve been thinking about it for that long, anyway”

Harry giggles, nodding.

“Yeah, no shit, you’ve been driving me crazy. Like when we went clubbing, I were two seconds away from having a fucking heart attack when you started dancing on me.”

“But then you threw up instead, how hot am I?” Louis laughs, and Harry sticks his tongue out at him for teasing.

“Ok, fine, but if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to resist you that night.”

Louis smiles, and hums in agreement.

They lay quiet for a bit, breathing each other in, feeling soft skin under their fingertips. It’s Louis who speaks first.

“Harry?”

“Mhmm?”

“It’s us now right?”

Harry moves his head back an inch to be able to look at Louis more clearly.

“Yeah. Yes, of course. I mean, I thought we already established that?” he smiles.

Louis shrugs his shoulders apologetic.

“Yeah, but I’ve learned never to trust a man with a hard-on to tell the truth, sorry love.”

Harry chuckles. That actually made sense.

“I wanna be with you Louis. I’ve wanted since I first saw you, even if I didn’t know how. I’ve never felt like this before” Harry states, looking –his– boy deep in the eyes.

Louis’ smile grows bigger, and he leans forward to kiss Harry’s full, pink lips.

“I feel exactly the same” he says, when withdrawing from the kiss.

“Do you still want to be my assistant? I don’t want you to quit, but I understand if you…”

“No, of course I want to, it’s the best job I’ve ever had. Bossing a hot babe like you around all day” Louis winks. “Seriously though, I wanna stay. I get paid by Niall and not you directly anyway, so I don’t think it feels too weird?”

“Good. We’re a team and I don’t want that to end” Harry mumbles softly.

 

**L**

 

They fall into silence again, Louis nudging his head against Harry’s neck, nosing his collarbones, shaping his body after Harry’s. He could lie like this forever and never need another thing. 

It’s just…                                                                   

“Harry, there’s something else though. Please don’t be mad” Louis starts, feeling his heart race.

Harry’s body suddenly goes tense, and Louis can feel his skin prickling with discomfort.

“It’s nothing bad, just… How do you feel about stop getting high?”

Louis speaks faster than usual.

“I did already though” Harry says coolly, turning and laying on his back. Louis sits up, leaning on his arm, watching Harry’s profile.

“I know you quit most the harder stuff, and I still can’t believe you did that for me, but I mean like, all of it? Weed too.”

Harry stares up at the ceiling with a blank face.

“How did you know I didn’t quit all together?” he mumbles.

“I’ve got a sense of smell, love. Your clothes can really reek of weed” Louis says. “And I found some other stuff when I looked for aspirin in your bathroom the other week”

Harry’s cheeks redden.

“Oh, well… Uhm, Liam kind of-“

“It’s alright, I’m not a fucking cop you know.” Louis interrupts. “I figured since you had been acting differently I didn’t mind it too much, but there’s also a difference working for someone who does drugs at least weekly and to date said person.” 

Harry doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring up at the white, crackled ceiling.

“…Did this change your mind Harry? Louis asks, insecure. “Am I not worth it?”

Harry snaps out of his staring trance, turning to Louis, a scared look on his face, like he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing.

“No, of course you are, I just…” he bites his cheek “Of course I will quit for you, I mean it’s not like it’s a big deal, I don’t even need it, I mostly do it cause I’m bored anyway, and cause my friends want to, and like-“

“Harry” Louis cuts hum off again. “You don’t have to defend yourself, I’m not judging, I just… I want you to be healthy, that’s all. How long have you been doing it?”

Harry makes a face, thinking.

“I don’t know, 5-6 years or something? Yeah, since I moved to LA I guess?” he says.

Louis’s mouth falls open in shock.

“So since you were like what, 16 years old? You’ve been doing coke since then?”

“Yeah, suppose so?” Harry shrugs.

Louis sits up for real in the bed, sitting on his calves.

“Why?” he asks.

“What do you mean why?” Harry looks confused.

“It’s a simple question. Why did you start when you were 16?” Louis asks. He needs to know.

“Uhm, I guess, cause everybody else did? And cause it made me relax and laugh. People always like me when I’m doped.”

He looks so young like this, Louis thinks while studying Harry’s features. His hair drenching the pillow, white teeth biting his lip. Louis feels the need to take care of him.

“Did you really need it to be happy even when you were 16?” he asks quietly. That fact hurts his insides.

“I guess. I was kind of lonely” Harry answers, fiddling with his fingers.

Louis remembers Harry telling him he moved here alone when he got signed, and can physically feel his heart ache for him.

“But why didn’t they move with you Harry? I can’t seem to grasp that. You were just a kid” he says.

Harry snorts loudly.

“Not what she thought” he says.

Louis wrinkles his forehead, scooting closer, knees touching Harry’s warm belly.

“What am I missing here Harry, please fill me in” he says, looking the younger man in the eyes. Louis feels like he’s begging to see inside of Harry’s mind, to see why his eyes seem empty when he’s lost in a daze.

Harry looks at Louis for a few moments, perhaps deciding. Then he takes a deep breath.

“Well uhm, first of all, my dad’s dead, so there’s that. And my mum’s precense itself would be enough to make Hitler shake in the knees; she’s fucking cold hearted and… not very nice. And uh, my sister just doesn't really care, but she was young then too. I don’t even know, it was mum who wanted me to get a career, but I guess it was to get me out of the house or something, it’s not like she’s gotten that much money out of it? But on the other hand she had plenty from the heritage, plus she runs some kind of business, I don’t even know, we haven’t talked in a while” Harry rambles, eyes fixed on his hands and absolutely not on Louis.

Louis shakes his head in disbelief, feeling the need to hold Harry grow stronger by the minute. Just as he’s about to speak, say anything to console this boy, Harry speaks again. Quiet, this time.

“She always says I’m her biggest mistake” he sighs. “She always used to anyway. I don’t even know what I did, but she only wanted Gemma. Said I was bad for business, too messy. Too much of an attention seeker. Too gay as well I suppose.”

Louis instantly looked at Harry, lying there trying to act as if everything’s okay, but Louis can hear his voice breaking and see the tears forming in his eyes. Louis lays down beside him, and presses close, as close as he can possibly manage. Placing his smaller hand on Harry’s heaving chest, warm soft skin to warm soft skin, hoping that his breaths and his touches and his inevitable emotions would help mend what was broken on the inside. Would help glue shattered glass back together.

“You deserve so much more than that, love. You deserve so much better. How can anyone have you in their lives and not care for you, I can’t seem to understand why, or how. That’s just–” Louis whispers. “You are honestly so much stronger than you think, Harry Styles. You were only 16, moved from England to LA on your own, promised a music career, and you had no support from home. You don’t realise how amazing you are.”

“Well, I, uh, I wasn’t all alone. Niall always looked after me when I got here though; I met him pretty quickly when I moved overseas. But like I told you, he’s just 2 years older than me, so he’s like an older broher. Yeah.”

Harry shrugs again, having a habit of it. He turns over to his side so he’s facing Louis, finally.

“Still. Don’t underestimate yourself Harry. You’re genuinely incredible.”

So many thoughts swirl around in Louis’ head as they lay there facing one another in a comfortable silence, but for some reason he blurts out:

“How do you know they didn’t rip you off?”

“Well, my mum had her lawyers look over everything before I signed. She’s not heartless” Harry says.

“You literally just compared her to Hitler” Louis frowns.

Harry laughs, but it sounds empty.

“She does hate a bad business affair though” he states. 

Louis blinks a few times, feeling overwhelmed. He scoots closer to Harry again, and kisses the corner of his mouth. He feels Harry take a shaky breath and slowly relax beside him.

“Do you still need it to be happy?” Louis asks after a few minutes, and Harry’s stare turns wild, like a deer in headlight. “Don’t lie to me babe, I won’t think less of you” Louis calms him.

Harry fidgets with his hands as the room stays silent, licks his lips absentmindedly, flacking his eyes.

“I… don’t. I think. Not when I’m with you.” He says. “It’s harder when you’re away, but I think I could do it for you.”

Louis smiles at the beautiful boy he’s pressed against. His beautiful boy.

“I want you to do it for _you_ , though. It’s not good for you, at least not the way you do it now” Louis says, stroking Harry’s hair and tucking a loose strand behind his ear. “How about this, what if we both have a white month? No shit, no booze? Just to get it out of your system for a while? And then we’ll see?”

Harry smiles again, laying on his side, drawing Louis closer.

“Sounds okay, I can do that” he says.

Harry looks like he’s relaxing, sunbathing in Louis’ smiley pecks to his face.

“Why would I need any of that anyway when I’ve got you?”

“Such a charmer” Louis giggles, and kisses Harry. Again. And again.

 

This time they don’t stop for hours.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**H**

 When Harry wakes up, it takes him a few seconds to register that there’s someone plastered to his back and has a muscular thigh lodged between his legs. Then he starts smiling, realising exactly who it is, recalling yesterday. It’s Louis’ sleeping breaths he feels against his neck, and it’s Louis’ delicate hands that are painting circles in his sleep over Harry’s abs. Harry is aching to turn around and kiss him, but at the same time he doesn’t want to wake him up. Louis’ underarm is made of gold in the early morning sunshine fills the room from the skylight in the ceiling, dusted in light hair, smooth and firm at the same time. Harry stays mesmerized by the way Louis has the most delicate and manly hands at the same time – small and deliciously veiny. Thinking of how they looked wrapped around him the day before, Harry can’t help but grab the hand and kiss it’s knuckles, one by one.

Louis’ breath hitches and changes, telling Harry that his new boyfriend has woken up. He shuffles around slowly, smiling.

“Good morning love” he whispers.

Louis looks absolutely adorable, with his fringe in disarray, and his eyes barely open. He is smiling though, a soft, gentle smile.

“Hi you” he says with a raspy morning voice, leaning in, planting a soft kiss on Harry’s upper lip. “You snore” he giggles, before sighing and saying “Can’t believe I finally get to wake up like this with you.”

Harry’s smile grows bigger, and his dimples deeper, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he drags Louis closer by his dainty waist, and kisses him back. They lay there, as the room gets brighter, lazily kissing without caring about morning breath or tousled hair, tracing each other’s bodies with curious fingers in an effort to learn everything. Harry needs to know exactly where Louis’ back dimples are located, and how many freckles he has on his shoulders. It’s vital for him to know the depth of his collarbones and the softness of his earlobe.  
“Babe” Louis sighs after a while, kissing Harry’s chin “I just realised I have to meet Lottie in a few hours. She’s gonna stay at my place for a few days while visiting collages, so I need to give her my keys”

Harry pouts.

“Since when did Lottie become the biggest cockblocker in history?” he says, and Louis chuckles, kissing his plump lower lip.

“I know, it’s awful. But I’ll be back as soon as I can, if you want?” he says, adding the last part a bit uncertain.

Harry’s grip around his back turns firmer.

“I don’t want you to leave in the first place, like ever, but if you have to, of course I want you back as quickly as possible.” Harry kisses Louis again, lips pressing harder than before. “I meant what I said yesterday Louis, all of it. I need you.”

He realises he sounds desperate, but somehow he doesn’t care. He _is_ desperate for Louis.

“I need you too baby, it’s just a bit hard to believe you feel the same way. I can’t quite grasp how lucky I am, I guess” Louis blushes, petting Harry’s strong jawline with his thumb.

“It’s me who’s the lucky one” Harry says, kissing Louis again, before dipping his lips lower, kissing down Louis’ throat, then chest, then belly. Feeling Louis come undone is the most beautiful experience of Harry’s life.

 

They get dressed, Louis in his loose jeans from yesterday and a lilac knitted sweater of Harry’s he finds slung over a chair. It’s sort of big on him, so he has to roll up the sleeves. Harry, although he doesn’t plan on leaving the house for the whole day, goes for black tight jeans and a pink shirt with polka dots, and throws on a few bracelets before heading down to the kitchen after Louis.

They eat the cereal Harry has ordered home cause Louis likes it for breakfast, sitting side by side by the kitchen island, stopping to kiss between every few bites. Louis sends a text to Lottie, deciding to meet up with her in an hour, but saying he can’t hang out for the rest of the day after that. If Harry wasn’t already missing Louis, despite the fact that he hadn’t even left yet, he would feel bad for being the reason Lottie can’t hang out with her older brother. Now instead his insides just purr from the feeling of being prioritised by Louis.

Louis gets his own toothbrush and leaves it on the counter when they’re done brushing their teeth, and head back to the kitchen. Harry suddenly traps Louis against the sink, his broader figure encompassing Louis’ as he leans in to kiss him, the two of them now tasting of peppermint as Harry deepens the kiss. A feeling he realises he’s missed dearly already.

“I should really get going now, Lottie’s gonna be waiting for me” Louis says after a while, but he doesn’t move. Instead he hops up so he’s sat on the counter, and clasps Harry’s hips between his thighs.

“Yeah, I guess you should” Harry answers, sucking a lovebite under his jaw.

“God Harry, we can’t be this cheesy already, we’ve literally been dating since yesterday” Louis moans and tips his neck for Harry to get a better angle.

“Yeah yeah, I know” Harry whispers, licking the freshly red lovebite, and making Louis hiss.

Louis tilts Harry’s head up with a single digit under his chin, and smiles at him with lust-blown pupils.

“I really don’t want to go” he says, and Harry is quick to get back on his lips. “I know I’ll be back soon, but I still don’t want to leave you” Louis pants, getting interrupted by Harry’s swollen lips between every other word.

“Mhmm” Harry agrees and licks in over Louis’ lips again, holding one hand in his feathery hair, and the other one sneaking in under the knitted sweater.

Louis scoots forward so he’s sitting right on the edge, making it easier for him to grind down on Harry. Just as they groan together, the kitchen door slams shut with a loud bang.

 

Harry and Louis jump apart, shocked, turning towards the door – only to see Niall. Arms crossed over his chest, an eyebrow raised to the skies and a smile smug enough to knock a man unconscious.

“Well well well” he says, his shit eating grin growing bigger, tut-ing with his tongue. “Looks like someone finally took my advice and got their act together”

Louis hops down from the counter, hiding behind Harry for a bit, adjusting himself.

“Niall!” Harry states, not knowing what to say. “Hello!”

“Harry” he laughs, dragging out the “y”. “You right pair of sneaky bastards”

Louis clears his throat, awkwardly stepping out from behind Harry’s back.

“Uhm, anyway, I need to go” Louis says, still blushing. He glances up at Harry and gives him a quick peck on the cheek and squeezes his upper arm. “I’ll call you later”

“Isn’t that your jumper Harry?” Niall asks.

“Yeah, okay” Harry breathes and follows Louis with his eyes as the short man heads for the kitchen door.

“He’ll miss his honeybear! Sweaterstealer!” Niall calls after Louis.

“Fuck off, Niall” Louis laughs, just before closing the door behind him.

 

Harry would give all his money not to be in the kitchen with Niall eyeing him in this current, tragic state – lips swollen, curls tangled and front of his jeans awfully strained. He feels his cheeks heat up and redden. 

“So this is why you haven’t answered my texts, huh?” Niall says with a conceited smile.

“Shut up” Harry says without looking at him.

“Or picked up the phone when I’ve called” Niall walks over to him, putting an arm over his much broader shoulders.

“Niall” Harry whines, blushing harder.

“You’ve been too busy getting the ass you’ve insisted for a month you’re not interested in” he laughs, shaking Harry a little.

“Quit boasting, we know you called it, get over yourself” Harry says, pushing Niall away jokingly, and hopping up on the kitchen island.

“I will not!” Niall almost shouts. “I’m gonna savour this ‘I fucking told you so, you fucking slow fuckers’ for a long fucking time”

“That’s a lot of fucks” Harry points out.

“Which I’m sure is something you’ll do a lot with Louis” Niall says, cackling.

Harry groans, burying his face in his hands.

 

**L**

 

Louis arrives at his condo to his sister sat on a bench outside, waiting for him. She stands up to greet him when she sees him coming down the path. Her smile fades and her meticulously painted eyebrows disappear up under her Nike-cap when Louis gets close.

“What happened to you?!” Lottie gasps, before Louis is even close enough to hug her.

He frowns, embracing his little sister.

“Hello to you too Lottie” he says sarcastically, taking a step back.

“No seriously, what the fuck happened to your neck?” she gasps, reaching out for the scarlet love bite well on display on Louis’s neck.

Louis blushes.

“Oh, uhm, nothi–” he starts stammering.

Lottie’s eyes narrow, eying her older brother.

“Did you and Harry finally hook up?”

“…”

She rolls her eyes.

“I fucking knew it” Lottie says, and nudges Louis. “Now let me inside.” she demands, pointing at the door.

Oh, right. Louis digs for his keys in the pockets of his jeans.

“How did you know about Harry, I barely even talked about him with you?” he says, letting them both inside.

 

His place is small but cosy, if he may say so himself. The whole apartment is one room; except for the tiny bathroom and the bedroom that’s barely big enough for his queen sized bed. A small kitchen, sadly filled with day-old saucepans from when he cooked pasta before going to Harry’s, is to the left once they walk through the front door. Louis throws his keys and sunglasses on the kitchen counter, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. Lottie dumps her patterned backpack by the door, before sitting down on the couch at the opposite wall from the kitchen, feet up on the cluttered coffee table, accidently tipping over an empty carton of chinese food. 

Once she’s content on the couch, she says: “Oh my god, get your head out of your big ass Louis, you’re so obvious?” she sighs dramatically, scrolling on her phone. “You always have that big-ass grin on your face whenever you talk about him, and you always spend way more time together than what’s considered normal with your fucking boss, you know?” she throws a pointed look at Louis, who’s sitting on a bar chair by the kitchen counter. He doesn’t own a kitchen table.

“And remember when you took me shopping this weekend? All you could talk about is how you would rather have spent the day with him. Way to make a sister feel special” she finishes, rolling her eyes.

Louis feels like all he does lately is blush.

“Eh, right. Sorry about that?” Louis scratches his neck, and takes a swig from the water bottle.

“It’s alright, I guess you’re allowed to be an asshole since you’ve just fallen in love. But don’t think I don’t see through you” she answers, not looking up from the screen.

Louis moves over to sit besides her, peeking at her phone. Why the hell does she follow Taylor Swift on Instagram?  
“But ok, uhm, what do you think then?” he mumbles, studying his nails.

Lottie looks over at him, laughing a bit.

“Oh my god. Do you actually care for my opinion? You really must be head over heals for this man” she says. “I don’t blame you, I saw him in GQ.”

“Lottie, I’m serious! Am I an idiot for falling for him?” The words sound harsh when they leave his mouth, but it’s a thought that’s circled in his head since he started working for Harry.

She puts down her phone, fully turns towards Louis and crosses her legs, directing her attention towards him.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I know he’s been pretty messed up earlier, but didn’t you say he got clean for you?”

“Yeah, yeah he did, it’s amazing” Louis nods vigorously.

“Does he treat you right? Like, does he respect you?”

Louis thinks of all the lazy afternoons on Harry’s sofa, of how Harry’s been taking such good care of him, laughing at his jokes, listening to his confused life stories while he makes them dinner.

“He… He really does. I’ve never been treated this good” he says.

“Think you have your answer right there, bro. But I’m gonna have to meet him to make a full assessment.”

“Yeah yeah. We literally got together yesterday, you can wait a bit. How long are you staying with me anyway?”

“’Til Thursday I think? I have a few schools to look around at.”

“You can sleep in my bed if you want, I won’t be here anyway.” Louis says.

Lottie snorts.

“Yeah no shit, that was pretty damn obvious. Can I have your car these days then?” she asks, eyebrows raised again.

When did he start allowing his younger sister to bully the shit out of him?

“Yeah I guess, you demanding little jerk” he says, poking her arm.

“What, like it is such an effort for you to have Harry get a car to pick you up?”

She might have a point.

 

Before leaving to go home on Thursday, Lottie comes over to Harry’s place for lunch. Louis had mentioned Lottie wanting to evaluate his new boyfriend to Harry, who had taken it very seriously.

“These things are important Louis, your family is so important to you!” Harry had argued, whilst fussing over what to wear.

And now here they were, sitting in the kitchen, waiting for Lottie to drop by with Louis’ car after her last college-meeting. Harry sits on a chair by the kitchen table, thumping his foot in the floor without rhythm, biting his thumb and fixing his hair every few seconds.

“Don’t be so nervous babe, she’s nice, I promise” Louis smiles from across the floor.

“What if she hates me?” Harry asks, wild stare in his eyes. “She’ll convince you to break up and quit your job and leave and–”

“Harry!” Louis interrupts, hurrying over to him, kneeling by Harry and taking his hands in his own. “Harry. Love. Breathe.” Louis fixed his eyes in Harry’s glazed ones, trying to anchor him. “I won’t leave, whatever she thinks of you. And she will love you, come on now.”

Harry simply pouts, still distressed, so Louis bends forward to kiss the plush, red lip.

“Louis, you promised me this lunch would be PG-13” comes Lottie’s voice sarcastically from the door.

Louis swings around and stands up, still holding Harry’s hand.

“Lottie, there you are! How did the meeting go?”

“It was alright, think I might choose them, have to talk to mom about it.” She says, looking around in the kitchen, distracted.

“So, Lottie, this is Harry” Louis smiles, dragging Harry up from the chair. The curly-haired man clears his throat and stretches out the hand Louis isn’t holding, initiating a handshake.

“Oh I know very well” Lottie smiles, taking his hand.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you” Harry smiles. Louis can see that he means it, but also how nervous he is.

“You know it’s like super easy to get in here? Like, shouldn’t you have better security? Aren’t you afraid of crazy stalker fans?” Lottie says.

“We told the guard you were coming and what Louis’ car looks like. It wouldn’t have been that easy otherwise” Harry says, adding “Plus my fans are nice… for the most part.”

“Sure you think so, they’re the reason you live in a castle” Lottie laughs. “They already ship you two though by the way, did you know?”

“Ship what?” Louis asks, frowning.

“Ship you? Like wanting you to be a couple?”

Harry and Louis look at each other, even more confused.

“How do they even know I exist? There’s been no outings?” Louis wonders.

“Oh come off it bro, you go shopping and shit, of course they’ll see you”.

Harry merely shrugs and goes to show Lottie the rest of the house.

 

Harry and Lottie hit it off instantly, it turns out. They have the same kind of humour and Lottie loves Harry’s sense of style. By the time they finished eating their sushi – that Harry made, the ambitious bastard – they both tease Louis for how he pronounces specific sushi-rolls and make references to Friends-episodes.

“This is not what I had in mind when I wanted you two to meet” Louis rolls his eyes, clearing the table while Harry howls with laughter at Lottie’s imitation of an offended Louis. “I thought it would be more like ‘Louis is amazing’ ‘Yeah, he’s the absolute best person on earth!’”

Lottie scoffs.

“Dream on bro” she says, looking at her phone. “I should get going, the train leaves in half an hour. Wanna call me a cab?”

Louis goes for his phone on the kitchen island, but Harry stops him.

“What, train to Oxnard? That’s gonna take forever, there’s no way you’re taking that” he says, taking out his own phone, dialling a number.

“What is he doing? What are you doing?” Lottie asks, first Louis and then Harry.

Harry simply shushes her and puts his phone against his ear.

“Robbie! How are you? Yeah? Martha too? And the kids? Lovely. Yeah, I know, it’s been a while. Need you to drive Louis’ sister home to Oxnard now though, how fast can you be here? Mhm. Mhm. Yeah, great! See you soon, bye!” he says, hanging up. “So, my driver will be here in 10, should be faster than the train at least” Harry smiles at Lottie, who gapes at him.

“Oh my god, way to show off Harry” Louis laughs, making a face.

“That’s so generous, thank you!” Lottie yelps, retrieving from her shock, throwing herself at Harry for a hug.

“No worries, my pleasure.” he smiles. “Plus Louis drives me everywhere, I legit think Robbie was bored and happy to have something to do” Harry shrugs.

 

Lottie says goodbye to them not fifteen minutes later, hugging them both and whispering “He’s a fucking keeper, don’t you dare let him go you idiot” to Louis before hurrying out to the car.

Louis steps up to Harry, locking his hands around Harry’s waist, eyeing his face.

“That went well, right?”

“Yeah, she’s so fun Louis! I mean, of course it’s logical your family is super nice, but… Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just remembering a certain someone being so sure I was going to break up with them cause my sister would hate him” Louis says, smugly.

Harry’s cheeks redden a bit.

“Sorry for freaking out, I just… I don’t handle stress very well” he mumbles, looking at his feet.

Louis stands on his tiptoes to kiss Harry’s temple.

“It’s alright. Let’s watch some telly and relax babe.”

 

They settle down on the couch, Louis half-sitting up by the end, and Harry lying on top of him, back to Louis’ chest. In return Louis hitches his legs around Harry’s thighs, locking his feet at the back of Harry’s knees.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks, as Louis takes out his phone, trying to sneak a peek at the screen.

“I’m checking a few tweets about us,” he says, typing.

It doesn’t take him very long to find what Lottie had been talking about. A twitter account called @theharrynews has posted over twenty mobile-pictures of them, shopping at the mall just the other day. They are watermarked with different twitter-handles, and taken from different angles.

“I didn’t even notice people were taking pictures” Harry states, sounding confused again. “What’s the caption?”

“Yeah, me neither. They say ‘Harry with a male friend’, they don’t know who I am at least” Louis says.

The comments below the pictures shocks him further, cause they’re all really… sweet.

 

jen @happilyhaz

OMG they look so cute together??

 

hi harry @harryisababy

Wow I totally ship them, they look so hot together

 

There’s a specific comment Louis scrolls past makes his insides warm and fuzzy.

 

dimps @alltheloveharry

Look how happy Harry is, I hope they keep hanging out when he makes Harry look like that

 

Louis clicks on the person’s profile, and sees they’ve posted the pictures themselves too, and discussed them.

 

dimps @alltheloveharry

Harry’s been looking so sad for so long, we’ve all been worried about him, but look at that smile >

 

dimps @alltheloveharry

> he looks so relaxed and happy with that man, can they hang out all the time please.

 

M’kat @nsfwharry

@alltheloveharry I knooow, he looks so fucking fond? What if they’re dating?

 

dimps @alltheloveharry

@nsfwharry omg pls, that would be the dream. And honestly explain so much. The hendall-pics are just too cringy to be real

 

“Can’t believe they saw through those pictures, that makes me so happy” Harry smiles softly, hiking a bit further up on Louis’ chest to be able to read better on his screen. 

They keep clicking through pictures of them at the mall, and then some from a walk they had taken when Harry had felt too cramped up and anxious in the mansion. Louis smokes while Harry drinks a green smoothie Louis had bought to cheer him up. The more they check, the more people they find who “ship” them, and who are guessing that Louis is Harry’s new boyfriend. “Harry with the cute, mystery man” an update account called @thedailystyles captions all their pictures of Harry and Louis together.

“We weren’t even dating when these were taken” Louis states, jaw dropped.

“Yeah, but…” Harry blushes, peeking up at Louis. “I do look very happy. We were really obvious even before, I understand Niall for mocking us now.”

“Yeah, I’m no better, what is that smile?” Louis laughs, zooming in on a picture of him looking at Harry. “I look like I’m about to cuddle a puppy.”

Next, Louis checks his Tumblr. After looking through his dashboard a bit, swearing over a Game of Thrones-spoiler, he searches Harry’s name. A very active blog by the lovely name of rainbowstyles is one of the first hits.

 

 **Anon:** _So from what I’ve heard that cute guy that Harry’s been hanging out with is his assistant or pr-person or something, Louis Tomlinson?_

**Well that is very interesting, thank you shady anon, I’ll dig deeper in this!**

Only a few hours later rainbowstyles has blogged again:

**Okay I can’t find anything by the name of Louis Tomlinson, nothing that looks like that guy anyway. He’s pretty off the grid. But, dear readers, I got another even shadier anon that says their friend actually saw them grinding on Hot Spot in LA just a few days ago. VERY STEAMY. But then apparently Harry threw up on the dance floor (dunno if I believe this, wouldn’t that make the news?) and they left together. I don’t know what to believe really, but I want it to be true (apart from the vomit, my poor boy). You know I’ve had the theory of Harry being in the closet for some time now, and if I keep rolling with that, then this seems like Harry’s gotten some company FINALLY. He also looks a lot happier and healthier than in a long time in those pics from the mall. All I want is for him to be happy, and this “Louis” (we’ll go with that name until I hear something else) obviously makes him happy. No matter if they’re bf’s or just friends. Harry could really need some nice friends. You all know how I feel about Liam……….**

**Bye for now xx**

 

When Louis finishes reading he realises that Harry is crying. Silent tears, falls from his eyes, sliding down the sides of his cheeks onto Louis’ shirt.

“Oh baby, I’m sorry if that upset you” Louis hurries, hugging Harry tight over the chest. Harry let’s out a small sob, holding onto Louis’ arms.

“I don’t know why I’m crying, I just…” Harry starts, before sobbing again, a hiccup following. “She’s so right. I’ve been so sad for so long Louis, and now you’re here and I can’t handle it” he mumbles.

Louis peppers his hairline and forehead with kisses, any part he can reach.

“Love, it’s alright, you can cry as much as you need to. I’m here,” he says, cradling Harry. “It’s nice that they’re so supportive though, isn’t it?” he adds softly.

Harry nods. 

Then Harry reaches for his own phone, looking through his pictures. He stops at one of Louis by the kitchen table eating cornflakes. Quickly he edits it in VSCO, making it black and white and cropping Louis’ head out (“hey!” Louis snorts). Harry captions it “Cereal killer.” before posting.

“Gotta give them something” he declares, throwing the phone at the other end of the sofa.

 

**L**

 

“Hello?” Louis pants as he answers his phone, breaking the jog and walking instead. He sees his apartment complex just a bit further down the road.

“Louis? Why are you panting? Are you having sex?” Harry says at the other end of the phone.

“Yeah, actually, picked up a dude at this diner and now we’re fucking Harry, you’re such a cockblock” Louis teases.

Harry’s laugh is bordering shrill.

“I know I started it, but please stop”

Louis giggles.

“Come on love, I’m out for a jog, what do you think? Almost home now though. What’s up? I thought I was going to your place in just an hour or so?”

“Yeah, you are, please come as quickly as possible” Harry says, and Louis can hear him smiling. “I just couldn’t wait that long.”

Louis unlocks his door and shuts it behind him.

“What’s going on Harry?”

“I got the contract!” he barks out. “I’m the new poster boy for fucking Saint Laurent Paris!”

“Wow, that’s amazing love!” Louis shouts, smiling at Harry’s obvious enthusiasm.

“Yeah, and apparently they told Niall that Hedi Slimane handpicked me? That he’s the one who loved my look. That’s so fucking cool I wanna scream, I’m having such a fanboy moment, you have no idea.”

Harry babbles on about what they had said at the meeting, what Niall had said about PR and how the representatives from SLP were going to call Niall and Louis to book the first photoshoot. While he gushed about the very famous and edgy photographer with a name Louis couldn’t even pronounce in his own head, Louis switches out of his sweaty jogging clothes, throwing them in the hamper. He continues to pace around naked from the kitchen to the bedroom and back again while Harry describes all the pieces he wanted to wear in great detail, talking faster than Louis has ever heard him before.

“Harry, babe” Louis interrupts when Harry takes a breath, describing a specific jacket. “If you want me to come over anytime soon you’re gonna have to let me hang up. I’ve been walking around naked ready for a shower for the last five minutes.”

Harry’s breath hitches.

“Hurry over here” Harry simply says, before the line goes silent.

 

Louis giggles and runs to the bathroom.

 

**H**

 

Entangled from feet to chest under messy sheets, they lie panting in Harry’s bed. Louis on his heavily tattooed arm, resting his head on the atomic heart, curling up against his sweaty body. Harry looks down at him, smiling big, and Louis looking up at him through his long eyelashes.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re pretty, ‘s all” Harry shrugs.

It’s already been over two weeks since they got together, but every kiss still feels like their first. Butterflies in his stomach is Harry’s new normal way of living now. They are there, he has accepted it.

“You’re just saying that cause I made you come” Louis says, poking him in his ribs.

Harry barks out a loud laugh, before covering his mouth, and turning to the side, leaning on an arm, facing Louis.

“Wanna know a secret?” He says, knowing Louis loves those.

As predicted, Louis looks curious, pursing his lips.

“What?”

“I’ve started writing again” Harry says, blushing, now afraid that Louis won’t think it’s a big deal.

Louis’ smile is warm and genuine, and he hugs Harry, hard.

“What, that’s amazing! Didn’t you say you hadn’t written in like a year?”

“Yeah I did. Just felt like I had nothing to write about” Harry says, kissing Louis’ temple.

Blue eyes piercing green, searching for an answer. Louis tilts his head.

“What made you start writing again then?” he asks, thumbing Harry’s bicep.

“Well… You.” Harry blushes even more.

“Harry…” Louis whispers breathless.

“Like, I guess the drugs didn’t help me being creative either, like people always claim it does. Everything just turned out shit and after a while I couldn’t even write bad stuff. But then you came along Lou” Harry smiles shyly. “Suddenly I have a whole life to write about.”

Louis doesn’t answer, but instead attacks Harry in a full body embrace, straddling Harry’s waist with his plump thighs. Harry smiles into the crook of Louis’ neck, who seem to be left speechless, for once in his life.

“Wanna swing by the studio later this week and hear some of the stuff I’ve written? I thought of ringing up the team to get some recording started” Harry says with a muffled voice, his mouth mushed against Louis’ shoulder.

Louis sits up on Harry, hands on either side of Harry’s hair flowing out on the pillow.

“Wait, you mean that?”

“Yeah, of course? I always feel like I’m shit at telling you how happy you make me–”

“You literally tell me like ten times a day, but go on.”

Harry smiles. “– but maybe you can understand a bit if you hear my songs about it. I don’t know, maybe it’s stupid”

“It’s the opposite of stupid, love” Louis whispers, looking down on Harry, grin growing big. “Gonna show you how happy you make me now in return.”

“What a cheesy porno line Lou” Harry giggles, earning him a smack over the chest.

“Shut up” Louis laughs, latching on to Harry’s throat, his hand making it’s way south.

 

**L**

 

Instead of going for the washcloth, Louis decides to take a shower. Harry’s made him break a sweat quite often within the last 24 hours anyway, so it’s much needed, he figures. He gives Harry a kiss on the nose and walks out of the room to the master bathroom, equipped with both a jacuzzi and a big steam shower, tiled from floor to ceiling in a soft sand colour. Louis opts for the shower, making a mental note to make Harry bathe with him in the big hot tub some time. 

The warm shower soothes his sore muscles nicely, moulding him. He hasn’t been this physically spent for years. Getting together with Harry was better than any gym card. Petting his stomach, he realises it has gotten a little firmer. Hm, who would’ve thought?

Just as Louis rinses the shampoo out of his hair, he hears the door open and feet patter over the bathroom tiles. A few seconds later, he has a naked Harry plastered to his backside under the drizzling shower, holding him around the chest and nipping at his wet neck.

“Hi there, couldn’t be without me for five minutes?” Louis smiles, leaning back at Harry, letting him have his way with his body.

Harry shakes his head; water flying from his now soaked curls. He’s already hard against Louis’ bare ass, and Louis can’t help but arch into it. He’s still loose from earlier, and the pressure stings a bit, but in a way Louis rather likes.

“I just kept thinking about you in here, all naked and wet and…”

Harry’s lips are back on Louis’ neck, and he just closes his eyes and sighs, contently, feeling himself grow hard again. It’s like he’s a teenager again, altering between a semi, a hard-on and just having come. That’s what Harry does to him.

“Harry…” he sighs, as Harry starts to rock his hips against him.

Louis looks around in the shower, reaches out and grabs a bottle of baby oil from the shower shelf. He hands it to Harry, who drizzles some over himself. Louis stands on his toes, arching even more towards Harry, silently begging him to hurry up. 

Once Harry is inside he places his large hands firm over Louis’ hips, rocking slightly, giving Louis time to adjust.

“Move” Louis pants, while trying to keep himself steady against the cold, damp wall. Their noises fill up the room, blends with the hot water that’s trickles down on them. Harry takes control over them, one hand still on Louis’ hip, the other one on the small of his back, bending him further down for better angle. Louis cries out hard when he hits his spot, making Harry move faster and harder.

Louis feels Harry bend down over him, following his body, holding himself steady with a hand on the wall, just besides Louis’.

“I need to see your face” Harry moans in his ear, still thrusting hard. Louis nods, swallowing. He’s forgotten how to form a sentence, but he wants the same thing

Harry draws out, turns him around and pushes back in, with Louis lifted off the floor, pressed between the shower wall and Harry’s toned body, now on flexed display. Louis locks his legs around Harry’s waist, holding on with an arm around his neck, pulling at his long, dark hair. That only has Harry moving faster, moaning louder, touching Louis with a more frantic obsession. Louis yanks harder, burying his hand in the wet mane of curls. 

The angle is just right, and with a broken whimper, calling Harry’s name, Louis comes, spurting on himself. After that it doesn’t take Harry much longer before coming hard too, grunting at Louis’s neck, holding his arse so tight he’s guaranteed to leave marks.

Harry smiles as he slips out, delirious and dim-eyed. As Louis sets his feet down on the shower tiles again, he drags Harry’s head down to meet his lips, peppering him with smiling kisses.

“I can definitely get used to this” Louis smiles.

Harry seems to be at a loss of words, and just hugs him tightly, kissing his jaw. Louis giggles, allowing him to be engulfed.

“It doesn’t matter that I don’t have the time to go to the gym anymore, you’re all the workout I need” Louis says, flexing his biceps, making Harry laugh. The sound multiplies in the room.

“You don’t need to work out anyway, but I’m glad I could help” he says, reaching for the shampoo. “Might as well get cleaned up while I’m in here”

“Wonder if I’ll be able to walk properly tomorrow.” Louis giggles. “Three times in what – four hours? We need to contain ourselves better” he pokes a brow at Harry who tries to look innocent.

“Fine, I’ll lay off your ass for the rest of the day” Harry acts offended and huffs, before winking at Louis.

 

Louis is so gone for this boy.

 

 

**L**

 

**Meet me at this address in an hour babe**

That’s all the text reads, besides the GPS-link. Harry sure is a fan of sending those instead of just writing the location himself. Louis looks it up and finds that it’s Liam’ house. Why on earth does he want him there? 

**_Need me to bring anything?_ **

**Just an open mind x**

Louis rolls his eyes and gets out of bed. He better get a move on, LA-traffic can sure be a bitch, he figures. As he dresses in rolled up black jeans, a black thin sweater that gives him sweater-paws and a thin leather jacket Harry had gotten from somewhere (the tag in the neck read R Owens) but was too small for him, he can’t help but wonder what Harry 1.) Was doing up in the early hour before 10 am and 2.) Why he wanted Louis to come to Liam’s with an open mind. He and Liam were good now; did Harry still think they needed some kind of reconciliation process? Never the less, Louis hurries out to his car to drive there. 

He calls Harry when he’s outside the gates. He didn’t know Liam needed gates to his house. Was he really that famous? He’s buzzed through, and as he drives up to the house, he sees Harry step out of the front door, dressed in rolled up, loose-fitting jeans and a knitted sweater, with his hair in a headscarf. Louis has never seen Harry look so soft before; it feels like he’s let inside a more intimate space than ever before. 

Harry meets him by the car.

“Hi love” he says, bending down to place a soft kiss on Louis’ lips, cradling his face. Louis smiles into it.

“Hello beautiful” he says as Harry straightens out again. “You look very pretty today”

“You think? Thank you” Harry blushes, takes Louis’ hand and starts walking toward the house.

“Yeah, you look so soft, I love it. You don’t need to keep up that rocker image for my sake. Even if you’re hot as fuck in those outfits too” Louis muses.

“Is that so?” smiles Harry. Louis nods, hums, and follows along, looking around. “So Harry” he says as they walk through the door “Why am I here?”

Harry smiles down at him. “Guess I was kind of mysterious, huh?” They walk through an entrance hall; pass a big kitchen and head straight to the back of the house. Harry opens a door and leads Louis into a warmly lit room with wooden walls. “This is where my studio is!”

Louis looks around, feeling the puzzle pieces falling to place.

“Harry, this is amazing” he says, hugging him. Louis hears someone wolf whistle, and blushes into the neck of Harry’s soft, grey sweater. He hadn’t really registered that they weren’t alone. Harry squeezes him extra tight before letting go, and starts introducing Louis to the men in the room.

“This is Julian, that’s John by the mix table, Jamie over here. And you know Liam of course” Harry says, and Louis shakes their hands, one by one.

“So you’re the one that blew up all of our social media, huh?” the one introduced as John says.

“Uhm, what?” Louis asks, confused.

“Ever since Harry posted that mysterious picture of you eating cereal his fucking FBI-fans are pestering us all with questions of who you might be.” He explains, making Louis feel dumb.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I–” he begins, but John just waves him off.

“Not your fault lad, that’s all on Harry, wanting those poor teenagers to go bananas”

Harry who seems unbothered by their comments and is inspecting the settings on the mixing table, smiles.

“Heh, yeah I guess that’s my fault, sorry man.”

 

Louis sits down in one of the big, plushy sofas, watching Harry as he discusses the outro of a song he refers to as “Hey Angel”. It’s something new to see him like this, Louis thinks, to watch Harry in his creative element. He exhumes more serenity than Louis’ ever experienced. He can’t help but smile.

A few minutes later Harry plops down next to him, tangling their fingers.

“Ok, the reason I really wanted you to come is cause I want you to listen to a new song” he smiles, dimples growing deep.

Louis swallows. “Okay? Let’s hear it then Harold” he says, pressing his fingers.

“God, this is gonna be unbearable” Julian sighs. “Let’s just put on the song and leave these lovebirds alone”. Louis blushes, sinking deeper into the sofa.

“Don’t mind Julian, he’s just bitter” Harry jokes, kicking Julian’s shin.

“Yeah yeah, here’s If I could fly” John says, pushing a button, starting a beautiful piano intro. “Don’t fuck on the couch” he adds, as they all leave the studio.

Harry’s voice fills up the whole room, and makes the hair on the back of Louis’ neck stand up, chills racing through him. The song is hauntingly beautiful. At the end of it, it’s like Harry’s singing a duet with himself

_I can feel your heart inside of mine_ __  
(I feel it, I feel it)  
I'm going out of my mind  
(I feel it, I feel it)  
Know that I'm just wasting time  
And I  
Hope that you don't run from me

Louis doesn’t notice he’s crying until Harry’ wipes his tears with a light brush of his thumb.

“Baby” he whispers, sounding insecure.

As the last phrase of “For your eyes only” fades out, Louis takes a shuddered breath, realising he was holding it.

“Harry, that was… that was amazing.”

“Really?” Harry asks studying Louis’ tearstained face.

“Are you kidding? Look at me, I’m a mess. You’re so talented, love” Louis says, tugging Harry into a tight hug, needing him close. He feels Harry’s smile at his neck.

“You know it’s for you, right?” Harry mumbles after a while.

Louis can’t help his smile, nor keep his heart from making backflips. “It is?” he whispers.

“Who else? I’ve never felt like this before” Harry says, before kissing Louis, looming over him, hand around the back of his neck. It’s like they’re listening to the song again, because to Louis, Harry’s kisses and his songs feel the same.

Louis drags Harry down, until he’s lying on top of him, hiking a leg over the back of Harry’s thighs to keep him close. Still not close enough. “Harry” he sighs, fiddling with the hem of Harry’s sweater. Harry at the same time tries to take off Louis’ rather tight leather jacket.

“Harry, I… I really l–“ Louis sighs as Harry kisses along his jawline.

 

The door slams open to the studio, Harry’s co-writers and producers walk back into the room.

“We told you fuckers not to fuck on the couch” Julian laughs, smacking Harry over the head. With swollen lips and hair a bit in disarray, they slowly sit up, fixing their rucked up shirts.

Louis is not making the best first impression, he realises. Jamie eyes him, squinting. Then he joins the laughter, sitting down by the mixer table.

“And that was just from If I could fly. Imagine when Harry plays him Stockholm Syndrome.”

 

**H**

“Just like that, hold that stare!”

Photographic flashes goes off multiple times, but Harry is too used to it to be troubled. He lies splayed over a worn down velvet couch in a sterile studio, doing his best to look bored and unbothered. His ring-clad fingers hold the string around his neck lazily, and his curls are obtained under a big black hat. Harry wears a black, embroidered jacket with nothing underneath, his tattoos coming out to play. Black tight trousers, slung low on his hips, are giving the laurel-tattoos all the attention they deserve. He leans a black leather boot with silver details on the headrest.

“You need to look emptier. More…” the photographer gesticulates, searching for words. ”More hollow! Empty! Sad! Dead!”

He raises his voice more with each word, screaming the last ones. Harry fixes his stares best he can, but the photographer is not satisfied.

“What is wrong with you? All pictures I’ve seen of you, you’ve always been so wonderfully hollow, and now you can’t deliver? Nonchalant! We need nonchalant!”

Harry loses his ability to breathe. Had it been that obvious to other people that he wanted to die all those years? Wasn’t it a good thing that Louis now made him actually want to exist for the time being?

He sees Louis’ silhouette behind the big umbrella flashes, looking down on his phone. Why wasn’t he watching?

“There, that’s better! Keep that empty stare!” The flash goes off again. Harry hadn’t realised he changed his expression. He tries looking for Louis again, but he isn’t there anymore. His insides falls, his blood turns to lead.

“This is great Harry, finally you’re getting it!” the photographer barks. “Hand in your hair now!”

 

A few poses later he gets off the couch, going back to his dressing room. He had done three outfits, with one last to go. Louis smiles at him, sitting on a chair, when he enters the room. Harry tries to smile back.

“Hi” he says, taking off his jacket, reaching for a black shirt.

“I watched you out there, you were great! This must be fun right?”

Right. Harry doesn’t answer.

The pants are the same for this outfit, but he switches to suede boots and loses the hat, looking over himself in the mirror. The stylists will fix the final details before the last photo session.

“So which outfit was your favourite?” Harry tests him.

“I have no idea, Haz” Louis smiles. “You look pretty in everything”

“God, do you even care at all?” Harry huffs bitterly.

Louis furrows his brows, looking up at Harry again. “What?”

“You don’t care.” He answers coldly. “About this or about me or us” Harry crosses his arms over his chest, shielding him from Louis.

“Harry, what the hell are you on about now? Of course I care. I love that you get this opportunity, and you’re doing amazing work,” Louis says, trying to keep his voice calm and smooth.

“No you don’t. You don’t care how I did during the photoshoot, and you don’t care how I feel about it, you don’t even ask how I’m doing, you’re just out there assuming shit. You didn’t even bother watching the photoshoot, I saw you staring at your phone and then leaving” Harry is tapping his foot, trying to sound cool and collected, but feeling the tears welling up, lodging in his throat. “You probably only use me as a career move, you don’t even like me.”

That has Louis actually dropping his jaw, eyeing Harry wildly and wide-eyed.

“How can you even say that? What have I ever done to make you think that? Why are you going off at me?” he asks, sounding hurt.

“What? The whole point is that you don’t care. Why are you even still here? I don’t need you during the shoot” Harry lies.

“Because I love you, you fucking idiot!” Louis outright yells, furious with how unfair Harry is being. “What the fuck do I have to do to make you realise how much I fucking care about you?”

 

The room falls into silence, and all that is heard is Louis’ heavy breathing, worked up from fighting. Harry slowly drops his arms to the side of his body.

“You… You what?” he whispers.

Louis steps closer to him, placing his hands on Harry’s biceps, forcing him to look at him. He takes a deep breath.

“I love you, Harry Styles. Have for some time actually, if you can believe that. Have no plans on stopping. And you’re not going to scare me away by being an asshole. I won’t allow it.” Louis sounds surprisingly calm, like he’s explaining one plus one equals two to a child.

Harry just stares into his eyes, turquoise in the light from the make up-table. He’s looking for the lie, for proof that Louis is playing him. But he finds none. All Harry can detect is love, devotion and a hint of hurt - hurt that he himself has put there. He hates himself for that.

“I love you too, Louis” Harry whispers, scared that Louis is going to take it back. But he doesn’t. Instead Louis smiles, big, and stands on his toes to kiss him, throwing his arms around his neck.

“I’m so sorry” Harry mumbles into Louis’ collar, as they stand hugging, clasping hard over his back. “I’m so sorry for what I said, I know you care, I just… It was the photographer, and then I only saw you looking at your phone and leaving right in the middle of everything, and I turned into such an ass, please don’t hate me, I–“ he starts rambling.

“Ssshh” Louis calms him, hugging tighter still. “I could never ever hate you Harry. I love you, no matter what, okay? Even if you’re an ass. I’ve said this since day one, but I’m not going anywhere” Louis breaks out of the hug far enough to look Harry in the eyes again. He strokes the curls by his temple. “I know you’ve been through much love, and that people haven’t treated you like you should be treated. But I always will, what can I do to make you understand that?” he asks softly, almost in a breath.

“I… don’t know. I trust you Louis, so much, it’s just that sometimes I freak out, and I can’t understand why the fuck someone like you would like someone like me. Feel like you’re gonna change your mind and leave.” Harry can feel himself blushing by his own honesty.

Louis’ eyes are so sincere Harry has trouble breathing.

“I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not gonna change my mind. No take backs.”

“No take backs” Harry whispers.

Louis kisses him again, softly. Nurturing, in a way.

“I watched most of the photoshoot Harry, and I’m so proud of you.” Louis is blushing. “It’s a bit embarrassing why I left, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would mind.”

“What’s embarrassing?” Harry squints at Louis, curiosity lit in his eyes.

“Well, uhm, I kinda had to leave cause I was getting a hard-on, okay?” Louis blurts out, making Harry howl with laughter. “Laugh all you want! I tried distracting myself with my phone, but it didn’t work, so I had to get some fresh air and a cigarette”

Harry is still giggling, and Louis draws him close. “You have no idea how good you look babe. Or how much you affect me.”

When Harry steps out to the last part of the photoshoot, the photographer screams at him again for smiling, but with Louis watching him from behind the camera, Harry finds that he doesn’t mind.

 

**L**

 

When Louis wakes up in Harry’s king sized bed on a Saturday morning, he finds himself alone. The clock on the bedside table shows 9.40 am. Harry never wakes up this early, Louis has learned the past month. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he sits up.

“Harry?” he calls out, but is met with silence.

Frowning, he looks around in the room. His eyes fall on a box wrapped in brown paper neatly tied with a big red bow, and a red rose lodged under the gift wire. Louis taps up on the cold floor, bringing the gift back to the bed. A note is sat on top.

“ _Good morning babe!_

_I remember a certain someone wanting more “cheesy ass romantics” in their life after sobbing their eyes out to 27 dresses, so guess what?_

_Take a shower (if you want, bet you smell amazing either way… ok I sniffed you in your sleep, you do smell amazing), put on what’s inside the box and go down to the very skilful breakfast I’ve made for you. Hope you don’t wake up at noon, it might be a bit disgusting by then? Fuck I suck at this. ANYWAY, you’ll find my next note in the kitchen so see you there, bye xx_ ” – _H.x_

 

What the actual hell? Louis didn’t realise his mouth was hung open until he finished reading the note. What was Harry up to? With butterflies in his stomach he rips the packet open, to find a beautiful soft sweater in deep purple. He instantly loves it. After a quick shower – he wants to smell extra good for Harry – he slips into his new sweater and his best ass-jeans that he rolls up above his ankles and completes the look with black vans.

Pancakes awaits him once he goes down to the kitchen. A whole stack of thin pancakes and three sorts of jams, with whipped cream and chocolate sauce to go with it. Louis feels his mouth water and promises himself to give Harry the greatest blowjob of his life every morning for the rest of the year, as he stacks up a plate with pancakes. While munching on a piece, he looks around the large kitchen for the next note, but he can’t seem to find it.

I need milk, he thinks. He doesn’t usually drink milk, but it’s the only thing he wants to his pancakes. He walks over to the fridge, humming.

“Are you fucking kidding me Styles” he mumbles with his mouth full as he finds the next note taped to the milk carton. He reads it as he sits back down at the kitchen counter.

“ _How many bf-points do I get for knowing you drink milk to pancakes, huh? Anyway, Niall will be over soon to tell you more. I miss you already <3_” _– H.x_

 

Louis smiles at the note so much his cheeks hurt. 

“Yo Tommo!” Niall barks from the hall half an hour later, as Louis scrolls through his Instagram feed. He hadn’t dared posting anything with Harry yet, even if his account is private. He really wishes he could, though, having the perfect picture of them both in storage for his first post.

“Hey, in here” he yells back, and Niall peeks his head in a few seconds later.

“There you are! Ready to be wowed?” he smiles. “Ooh, pancakes!”

“What is going on Niall, honestly, I’m so confused. We’re not celebrating anything, I just don’t get it” he thinks out loud, as Niall grabs a few pancakes and drizzles chocolate sauce over them.

“I have no idea” he laughs, spitting bits of pancake on the counter as his voice fills the entire room. “He just ordered me here to make sure you have a fun day, and then I’m taking you to him tonight.” He swallows. “So what do you feel like doing?”

 

They end up playing FIFA on Harry’s Xbox for the rest of the day. Louis somehow feel like this isn’t what Harry had in mind, but it’s a nice day with Niall, with whom he’s gotten really close lately. Niall talks non-stop about this girl he’s just started dating, Barbara. “She’s amazing dude, like so hot, I can’t fucking believe it. And she’s a fucking model, I mean come on” he blabbers, while Louis shoots another goal. A string of curses echoes in the room.

“Dude, I know you’re finally getting laid on a regular basis – which I applaud you for - but this level of humiliation is embarrassing” Louis giggles.

Niall looks at his wristwatch.

“Oh, hey, we should get going, Harry’s gonna be so pissed if I muck this up” he says, shutting down the video game. They look at eachother and laugh, both thinking of exactly how pissed Harry would be.

 

As Louis sits in the passenger seat of Niall’s car, Niall hands him one of Harry’s Alexander McQueen-scarves.

“Wrap this around your eyes” he demands, backing out from the driveway.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not supposed to see where we’re going, boss' orders! Just do it.”

“Fine fine, damn” Louis mumbles, knotting it around his head. He can’t see anything. “This better be worth it”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure it is. Harry’s always been really dramatic. You should have seen his 21st birthday party, damn. It was this big ass masquerade, he rented a fucking castle, and the drinks were literally on fire and it rained rose petals and… I probably should shut up, cause I don’t think this is gonna be that dramatic” Niall laughs.

Louis laughs too, absentmindedly. He’s mostly excited to see Harry again; he’s been missing him all day. And if he get’s swept away with perhaps some flowers or a nice meal, then it’ll just be a bonus.

 

Finally, Niall stops the car, and before Louis can do anything, his car door is opened.

“Hello” he hears Harry say, making him smile, before he reaches in to let Louis loose from the seat belt. “Thanks for the help Niall, I owe you” he says, and leads Louis – still blindfolded – out of the car. Harry’s hand is soft and warm, engulfing his.

Louis hears Niall drive away, and nudges Harry.

“Kiss me” he whispers, and he doesn’t have to wait, feeling Harry smile against his lips.

“I’ve missed you” Harry says, taking his hand again. The ground is flat and quiet underneath them, almost like… wood?

“Well, it’s not my fault” Louis says. “I’ve missed you too. When can I take off this blindfold, I wanna see you”

“Hold on, don’t be so impatient babe. You look amazing in the sweater by the way, wow, even better than I imagined” Harry gushes, and Louis let’s the praise swill over him.

Harry leads Louis slowly, before stopping suddenly. Louis can feel him smile as he clears his throat.

“Okay, here goes” Harry says, standing behind Louis, untying the blindfold.

 

It’s bright for a few seconds, but as his eyes adjust to the natural light, and his jaw goes slack. Whatever Louis was expecting, he wasn’t expecting this. They’re standing at the beginning of a long, secluded pier, stretching right into the ocean, the Pacific sparkling in the light from the golden sunset. The boards of the pier, drizzled in carmine rose petals, are lit up by thousands of fairy lights hung on the railings. Little speckles of sun rays, or fireflies surrounding the pier. 

“Harry” Louis merely breathes. “Harry, this is… so beautiful. It’s amazing.”

He can’t tear his eyes away from the sight, feeling Harry’s soft lips to his cheeks.

“ _You’re_ amazing” he whispers, hugging him from behind, his strong arms crossed over Louis’ narrow chest.

They start walking down the pier slowly, the wooden boards creaking underneath their feet, the petals somewhat softening the sound. Louis looks around at the promenade behind them, stretching across the bank.

“How did you make it so secluded Harry?” he wonders as they walk past a heavy iron anchor, lying on top of a pile of thick rope.

Harry blushes a bit, his eyes glinting mischievously in the fairy lights. “Uhm, I might have made a few phone calls and shut down everything in a kilometres radius?”

“You did not!?” Louis gasps, and Harry nods, giggling. “Wow Styles, you come off as such a down to earth kind of guy, but sometimes the world star diva side of you just comes naturally.” 

 

They reach the end of the pier, where Harry has set up a table, complete with white tablecloth, roses, grand candles and champagne cooling in a bucket.

“It’s non-alcoholic” he hums, popping it open, filling two glasses.

“Yeah, I figured” Louis giggles, accepting a glass. “Wow, Harry, this is the most amazing surprise of my life” he says, looking around again. There was nothing but them and the sunset and the ocean now. Except for a majestic lighthouse on their left, standing tall in the sea, watching over the scenery.

“I do have some things going for me. Like the weather, imagine trying to do this in England?”

“Impossible” Louis agrees. He curls up to Harry’s side, clinking their glasses together lightly. “To us” he says, taking a sip. Harry noses at the top of his head.

Harry makes them sit down, unable to let go of eachother completely, fingers tangled over the table and feet crossed over one another.

“Okay, but what is all this for Harry? I haven’t forgotten an anniversary of some sort, right?” Louis says, squinting. Harry laughs heartedly at Louis’ boring joke.

“No, you’re clear on that point.” he winks. “I actually have something I want to tell you”

Louis has never seen Harry like this before, smile so big he’s showing teeth, dimples deep like craters, eyes glinting of hopeful excitement. He’s never looked so beautiful.

Harry moves his chair so he sits closer to Louis, and not across from him anymore.

“Tell me already Harry!” Louis squeals, squeezing Harry’s hand. “Please?”

Harry takes Louis’ left hand into his larger ones, thumbing at his pulse point. “The thing is Louis… You’ve changed my life so much these last few months. More than anyone ever has. You make me want to get out of bed in the morning, and be the best person I can be, you’ve given me hope and love and what feels like a future.” Harry says. Louis can only smile, soft, feeling his heart swell for this curly haired boy sitting close, pouring his insides out to him. Harry looks up at him, and Louis nods with a smile, urging him to go on. “For so many years I barely felt human, barely felt alive when I wasn’t on stage. For such a long time I didn’t know what my purpose was. But now I know. It’s to make you smile. And it’s to love you. This is all so new, and I may be naïve now, but… I don’t see us parting. Ever.” Harry says, a slight tremble in his voice. Louis can’t be sure if it’s from nerves or if Harry is trying not to cry. He leans forward to kiss him.

“I feel the same way, Harry. Exactly the same” Louis confesses, making Harry beam at him.

“Okay, so now to the good part”

“That wasn’t the good part?”

Harry’s smile grows bigger. “No, actually, this is: I wanna come out.” Harry declares. Louis makes a high-pitched noise.

“What, really?! Oh my god Harry, that’s so exciting for you” he shouts, throwing himself at Harry. Hugging hard, hanging on for dear life, he breathes Harry in, his neck filling up Louis’ nostrils. “I’m so proud of you. So so proud of you. You’re so amazing Harry”

“I wanna do it for me, but also for you. For us. I want to show everyone how much you mean to me. I don’t want to keep quiet about you anymore, you don’t deserve to be hidden away like this.” Harry mumbles.

“You’re not doing it just for me, right?” Louis asks, looking up at him timidly. “I couldn’t live with that.”

“No, no, of course not. But you’re part of it. You make me want to be true to myself and everyone else. I don’t want to lie anymore. You make me brave Louis”

Harry stands up, pulling Louis up until he’s pressed tight against his body, allowing no air to get between them. Louis gets kissed like he’s never been kissed before, life filling up his body from the hair on his head down to the soles of his feet. Every inch tingles, Harry is filling him with the most intense feeling of love he’s ever experienced.

“I’m yours” Louis breaths against Harry’s lips.

“I’m always yours” Harry whispers back.

 

And the lighthouse observes them resolute, guiding their way to the horizon.


	6. Chapter 6

**H**

 

When Harry wakes up that day, he’s smiling. And not just cause he’s being held by Louis with an arm over his chest and a leg strung over his laurel-tattooed hip. Today’s the day for his meeting with Simon Cowell, head of his management, to talk about coming out. Finally. It’s like Harry hasn’t realised how much he’s wanted to come out of the closet until it became realistic to actually get out of it.

“Louis?” he whispers, without turning around. “Louis, are you awake?”

“Hmprf” grunts Louis, face mushed against the pillow.

Harry turns around, smiling. Louis peeks at him through thin slivers of his newly awoken eyes.

“Since when are you the morning person out of the two of us?” Louis mumbles, dragging Harry closer, squishing their torsos together.

“Since I’m meeting with Simon today” Harry smiles, batting his eyelashes. Louis opens his eyes wide.

“Oh fuck, of course! Are you excited, love?”

Harry nods, dragging his hair against the pillow. “My god, yes. I’ve got like 10 adorable pictures of us I want to post on Instagram right away”

Louis rolls his eyes fondly. “Of course that’s what you’re thinking of” he says, leaning in to kiss him. 

Harry changes his outfit three times; not being able to decide which one makes him look “the most confident and free, these things are important Louis!” In the end he decides for black striped pants, boots, a purple button down and a black coat.

“I look like a camp magician” he says, contently, eying his reflection.

“That’s cause your magical” Louis teases, pinching his bum. “C’mon superstar, I need brekkie.”

 

While Harry munches on a sandwich and Louis downs his second bowl of fruit loops, Niall barges in through the kitchen door.

“Oh, no fucking this time, what a nice surprise!” he greets them, going right up to the fridge, digging out a yoghurt.

“You’ve never walked in on us fucking Niall, give it a rest” Harry snorts.

“Pff, you were a grinding mess, I’ve seen plenty enough, thank you”. He walks over to Harry, slapping him over the back. “Are you ready to come out to the whole world Styles, huh?”

Harry’s smile is bigger than he planned it to be. “Yes” he blushes.

“Let’s go then! C’mon, you don’t keep Cowell waiting, even if the old bastard sure deserves to. Bring the rest of the sandwich.”

“Nah, I’m full, it’s alright” Harry answers, grabbing his coat.

“Yeah, I know you are, it’s for me?” Niall says, as if Harry had just insulted him a little bit.

Harry leans over Louis, holding his face in both hands and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I can’t wait to brag about you” he smiles.

“Dito, babe” Louis winks, taking Harry’s hand and kissing the palm of it. “Go, be awesome. Text me when you’re done, I want to celebrate”. Louis is smiling just as big as Harry, his eyes twinkling.

 

**N**

 

“Gentlemen, welcome” Simon Cowell greets them, shaking their hands over a solid oak table in the well lit meeting room at his office.

Niall goes to sit down opposite the mogul, feeling hopeful. Harry sits down next to Niall, innocent, big smile on his face.

“So, let’s get to business! When can I come out? We need like a plan, right? Ease it in on the fans, perhaps start with me saying stuff in interviews, and then some outings with Louis, right? Get the general public speculating and all that?” he is excited, a tremor when he speaks.

Niall can’t remember when he saw Harry this happy last. Cowell interrupts the artist’s rambling with a stern look, making Niall feel uneasy.

“Yeah, we’ve talked about that… And decided that you can’t come out Harry. It’s just not good timing.” He states, coldly.

_And that’s the moment Niall sees his best friend fall apart before his eyes, and there is nothing he can do about it._

Harry sits quiet, mouth open, eyes flying over the table, seemingly desperate for something to hold on to in his state of shock.

“But… You promised.” he says with a weak voice.

“Situations change Harry, be a big boy and realise that. Your new album is already having way more Grammy-buzz than your previous ones, and you haven’t even released a first single yet! We can’t jeopardise that.” Mr Cowell says, voice impatient.

“You said, that when I had a stable relationship, I could come out. You. Said. That.” Harry says, pausing at every word. He doesn’t seem to be able to speak more than that.

“As I said, things change. That was just an oral agreement, it’s not included in the contract Harry. Surely you’re not dumb enough to believe me, are you?” Cowells grin only widens as he watches Harry slowly crumble.

Niall is one second from reaching over the table and punching that smile toothless.

Harry looks like he has no idea what to say to save himself, so Niall speaks up, a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Come on Simon, be reasonable. I really think it would help rather than not, the fans love seeing Harry as happy as he’s been with Louis. They would rejoice. And think of the PR!” he argues, eyes fixed in Simon’s.

“The fans don’t care like that, don’t act like you know anything about 12 year old girls, Horan. They just want to marry him and that’s that. He can’t lose the part of his fandom with the most purchase power, in terms of both merch and music.”

Niall almost laughs at the absurdities coming out of Simon’s ugly mouth.

“Do you even believe that yourself when you say shit like that, or is this just a twisted way for you to punish Harry?” Niall snarls, before taking a breath, trying to find a solution to save Harry. “But ok, if an outing is completely off the table, can’t we compromise? A glass closet? No fake girlfriends, no lothario image, and he can post pictures of Louis as if they’re good friends?” Niall negotiates.

“Hmm” Simon says, looking like he’s considering it. “I don’t know… If the album get’s the number ones we count on it to get, he could perhaps take that step”

He smiles at Niall and Harry, looking like he’s doing something charitable. Niall wants to throw up in his smug face. Harry is just staring at his hands with glassy eyes and a shaking bottom lip. 

Niall suddenly stands up, ushering Harry to get up on his feet too. “This is not the last of this Simon. You can’t treat him like this” Niall says, through gritted teeth, as he leads Harry to the door.

Simon raises an eyebrow. “Don’t get cocky Horan. I can treat him any way I want. Now off you go.”

Niall flips him off before slamming the door behind them.

  

**L**

 

Ever since the meeting a week ago, Louis is never further away from Harry than a few feet. And he feels that Harry is grateful for it, even if neither of them addresses the fact that Louis is even clingier than he used to be.

Quite poorly timed, Louis is supposed to attend his cousin Nancy’s wedding up in Sacramento. He rsvp’d yes months ago, before he and Harry even started dating. But now he wishes he could go back in time and undo that “x” in the yes-box of the card. He really doesn’t want to leave Harry like this, having just been crushed down again after months of build up. Louis doesn’t mean to be cocky, but he’s not oblivious the positive effect he’s had on Harry’s life lately, and he want’s to do what he can for Harry not to end up at square one again. 

“I don’t have to go to the wedding, Harry. Me and Nancy never were that close anyway” Louis whines.

They lie curled together on Harry’s couch, with the screen frozen on the Netflix homepage, waiting for them to make a decision on what to watch.

Harry pushes Louis up a bit from his chest to get a better look at him, shocked.

“You are not cancelling on them, you’ve been talking about it for weeks!” Harry gasps. “No fucking way, you’re going even if I so have to drive you myself.”

“I wish you could come with me” Louis pouts.

“Yeah, me too, but we can’t really have 400 guests sign an NDA” Harry chuckles, without humour.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess…”

“And it’s just two days, you’ll be back soon enough.” Harry calms him.

“Of course but still, I–“ Louis begins arguing, but is interrupted.

“You’re going, end of the discussion!” Harry snaps. Then he kisses Louis, perhaps to soften his words, and hands him the remote. “Now pick a Friends-episode”

 

**H**

 

“Are you sure I should go?” Louis asks for the thousandth time, earning himself a slap over the head.

“For the last time Louis, yes! Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking stubborn.” Harry sighs, not quite able to contain his smile for Louis asking once again.

Louis has kept his bags over at Harry’s mansion so he can go straight to the wedding from there. Harry can barely remember when Louis slept at his own place last. They never sleep over at Louis’ because his bed is so small, and the security is minimal. Niall straight out forbid it when the topic came up, and Harry realised he was right.

Harry helps Louis carry his bag – one of Harry’s leather bags from Saint Laurent – to the kitchen, setting it down on the floor. When he turns around, he finds Louis pouting straight at him.

“C’mon Louis, I really don’t want to push you out of here. I should be the one begging you to stay” Harry whines, hugging him over the waist.

“Beg me to stay then.”

“But then you’d actually stay.”

“Yeah? That’s the whole point.” Louis rolls his eyes.

“You suck at trying to convince me love, just give up” Harry laughs, hugging Louis tight, attempting to make himself smaller so he can fit into Louis’ frame.

Louis let’s his nose rest on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry feels him breathing him in.

Harry kisses his temple, before leaning back.  
“You should go or you’ll miss the rehearsal dinner” he says softly.

Louis nods, and stands on his toes to kiss Harry again.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?”

“Yeah, you will” Harry smiles, dimples only for Louis.

The second Louis shuts the door behind him, Harry feels colder than before. Before he’s left the driveway, Harry’s missing him. He sighs. As he tries to figure out which room in the house feels the least lonely, and when it’s okay to call Liam, Harry grabs a bottle of water from the fridge.

 

_We could be heroes, just for one day_

 

Harry swings around, looking for his phone, grabbing it from the kitchen table. The caller-id makes him doubt whether to answer or not, but he’s too curious not to.

“Mum?”

“Harry” a cold voice simply stated on the other end of the line. Yep, that’s definitely his mother.

“What do you want?”

“Well aren’t you as polite as ever.” She says, and Harry rolls his eyes. “I just talked to that manager of yours, that boy Horan. You’ve been in contact with my lawyers, I understand?”

Harry swallows. Right. They had hoped that there was a loophole in the contracts; and really making Harry’s coming out the reality he had thought it was just a few days earlier.

“Yeah? What do you think about it?” he asks, trying not to sound too hopeful but failing.

And then, he hears her laughing. Cold and shrill, almost manic, but also not at all amused. Like the laughter is a pose, setting the scene where Harry plays the village idiot.

“What did you think Harry? Of course you can’t come out and be successful in the way you have been. I’m not even going to try and support that. You need your girls, both the fans and those models. Who would buy your music if you were honest about who you are? Honestly son, I did not raise you to be this daft. Stop being a baby” she says. Harry’s knees bend without warning, and he finds himself sitting on the floor, leaning his back against the freezer. “Besides, Simon is doing you a favour. This thing with this Louis-person is never going to last anyway, so stop being naïve. You’ll realise he’s just using you or that he’s playing you or – if he against all odds actually happens to like you – he’ll discover what a mess you are and get the hell out of there. And wouldn’t that be embarrassing, hmm? Coming out and getting dumped?”

_(Is she saying this is this happening does she have a point will Louis leave him)_

“You’re wrong” Harry says quietly, voice trembling.

“You don’t even believe that yourself honey, I can hear it,” she answers and Harry knows she’s smiling.

“You don’t know anything” he tries.

“I know plenty enough. Honestly Harry, I care for you, I’m just trying to help you. And the truth is that people will leave you if you come out. Simple as that. Trust me and Simon, we know this business. Focus on your song writing or whatever.”

_(Shut up shut up shut the hell fucking up)_

Harry hears her take a sip of something. He has to ask.

“So there are no loopholes?” he tries to keep his tone as stoic as possible

“Cowell is clever man Harry, there’s nothing you can do.” 

_(No no no no no)_

“I need to go” he whispers, and doesn’t listen for a goodbye before hanging up.

 

Harry ends up frozen in that same spot on the kitchen floor. With his back to the buzzing freezer, he simply stares at the chair in front of him for several hours.

 

**L**

 

“Hi, love, can you see me properly?” Louis smiles and waves at the screen. He can see a faint smile on Harry’s pale face, lying on his stomach in the couch at home.

“Yeah, you’re very crisp” he says. “How are you?”

Louis swears internally for not being the one to ask that question first, cause Harry is the one who needs to answer it, but he swallows.

“It’s fine, I was a bit tired from the long car ride but-”

“I told you Robbie could drive you!”

“He’s not gonna drive me all the way up to Sacramento Harry, give me a break!” Louis laughs. “Anyway, it’s all right, mum had made me a nice meal when I came here, and after sleeping in this very squeaky bed, I’m good” he says, point back at the bed for Harry to see.

“That looks very squeaky” Harry agrees, nodding.

“Missed sleeping with you though” Louis smiles, looking at Harry on the screen. He has a sudden urge to reach out and touch him, but knows he can’t. “I know it’s just two nights, all in all, but it still sucks, I’m so used to you now”.

“Yeah, I know…” Harry mumbles, biting his cheek. “I had a lot of trouble sleeping without you, to be honest.”

“You did? You could have called me, baby” Louis says, regretting the fact that he didn’t ring Harry.

“I didn’t wanna disturb you, you had a long trip and you needed to catch up with your family”

Louis’ heart sinks in his chest, clenching, longing to be with Harry. “I don’t want you to think like that baby, I’m always here for you, okay?”

“Yeah yeah” he sighs.

“How are you feeling Harry?” The worry at the pit of Louis’ stomach is stirring. “You know I’ll drive straight home if you need me to, right?”

“No! No, Louis, I’m fine, I’m just tired. I’m just being a baby, missing you. We’ll see each other again tomorrow. Please enjoy the wedding, I would feel so guilty for ruining that for you!” Harry blabbers. “Honestly, I’m fine” he smiles at the screen, a bit strained.

“Yeah okay” Louis nods. “I don’t wanna be that overprotective ass either. Ooh, you wanna see me in my wedding suit?”

Harry shines up, now sitting in the sofa. “Uhm, yes?! How come it took so long to ask?”

Louis talks on and on about his cousins and his weird grandfather and how the reception is planned, while he changes into the suit. Harry smiles contently at him the whole time, making Louis’ heart calm down a bit. _I was totally overreacting_ , he figures, _I can’t be that guy, c’mon now Louis._  

“You look so fucking hot, wow” Harry breathes as Louis shows of the navy blue suit, turning around so Harry can see it in every angle. “Not to be blunt but your ass is a gift from God in those pants and the blazer fits you so well, Jesus Christ.”

Louis giggles. “That’s a lot of strong words for an atheist with a tattooed cross on his hand.”

“Well, yeah, but I mean every single one. If you were here I’d have you spread out on the bed eating you out by now” Harry murmurs sincerely.

Louis feels his mouth go dry and his pant front grow tight awfully fast, but before he can reply, his mother decides to knock on the door.

“Louis! Are you ready honey? We need to get going to the church in just a few minutes!”

“Yeah, coming mum!” he yells at the door before returning his focus to Harry. “So, I need to go, but believe me when I say I _really_ don’t want to” he pouts. Does he have time to rub one out? Sitting horny in a church just doesn’t seem right to him.

Harry smiles, somewhat weakly again. “I get it. When will you be back tomorrow?”

“I don’t really know, some time in the afternoon I suppose? I’ll hurry.” He promises.

“Don’t hurry for my sake, I want you to hang with your family. You deserve to be around happy people too Louis”

“Hey, don’t say shit like that. I wanna be around you all the time, no matter how you’re feeling.” Louis says sternly.

Harry shrugs. “You’re sweet. Hurry now, I get all stressed that you’re sitting here chatting with me when you should be heading to the church. Have fun baby” he smiles, blowing Louis a kiss.

“I love you” Louis says.

“I know” Harry answers, and hangs up with a wave.

 

**H**

 

After hanging up with Louis on Skype, Harry feels heavy. Feet, legs, stomach, arms and head are sunk into the soft couch, weighing a tonne. His breath hitches, over and over, something clawing at the back of his throat. Harry focuses on a spot in the ceiling, trying to calm his erratic respiration. In. Out. In. Out. 

Harry stands up, suddenly filled with an urge to leave the room. The couch is wrong with no Louis in it. He’ll be back tomorrow, Harry comforts himself, it’s just one more day and night without him. Unless he decides to stay longer. It wouldn’t be weird, Louis never meets his family anymore, and of course he misses them. Harry knows Louis says he doesn’t mind being with Harry instead, but he can also feel the lie. Harry _is_ a burden. Alone and broken and in desperate need of constant attention, who wouldn’t need a bit of time away from that?

Harry walks from room to room, touching the walls, feeling as if the house has gone black and white. Every interior detail and all the wallpapers are in shades of grey. White black grey light grey charcoal dust eggshell grafite nightsky. They feel like rubber under his fingertips.

Louis could meet a nice man at the reception. A cousin to the groom or something, perhaps an old childhood friend. They could start chatting over glasses of champagne, realising how much they have in common. The guy would be cute, broad shoulders and a proper beard that Harry never was able to grow. And the guy would of course be mesmerized with Louis, because who isn’t? Louis would finally realise what life can be like without complications. And he would be rational, and leave Harry.

 

Yes, that could possibly, most likely, probably happen. Harry can’t feel anything but empty at the realisation. He want’s Louis to be happy, more than anything in the world, and Louis is hurting with Harry. He is not as carefree as he once was. Not as free from sorrow as he deserves to be.

Harry can’t stop pacing, with thoughts swirling in his head, going over every possible scenario that could occur at the wedding. It won’t stop. He’s forgotten how to stand still, and he’s forgotten how to breathe. As he walks up the stairs he scratches his lame two-day stubble, and realises he’s crying. How long has he been crying for? Every inch of his skin is itching, it has since Louis kissed him goodbye and drove out from the driveway, but it’s getting worse. Like mosquito bites, flees and poison oak, he itches and then scratches back. Tongue is swelling too, and he pants as he walks into his bedroom. What has been their bedroom, but which Louis has probably already forgotten about it. As he should. Harry is glad Louis has moved on already. He’s happy that Louis’ heart is probably already given to someone else. He tries to be happy for another man touching Louis’ body, but he can’t quite. That particular part makes Harry’s skin green, awakes a bottomless scream in his chest. But he has no right to be jealous. He could never keep Louis, who had he been trying to fool?

As he lies down on the bed, feet still on the floor, his whole body is shaking. His mouth has gone dry, and the back of his neck is damp from sweat. He closes his eyes, focusing on his heartbeats, beating out of rhythm. Sounding more like a war drum than anything else. As he opens his eyes again, the first thing he sees is the door to the walk-in-closet standing ajar.

 

And then he remembers something.

 

**L**

 

It’s just after eight in the morning when Louis steps through the kitchen door. He’s been driving for over five hours straight and hasn’t slept in over thirty, but he’s got an espresso buzz and really needs to see Harry. There was just something in his boyfriend’s voice when they had hung up on Skype the day before, that had left Louis with a nagging feeling he’d been unable to shake all during the wedding reception. His cousin Nancy hadn’t been happy with him leaving her wedding, and his mother thought he was overreacting, but he didn’t care. Lottie had kissed his cheek and told him to go where he was needed, being the only one who had met Harry, and the only one who understood.

“Harry?” he calls out.

No response. The house is almost too quiet, but then again, it’s still early and Harry usually sleeps until at least noon. It’s just that Louis has had a small egotistical wish that Harry hadn’t been able to sleep without him, and would lie awake. But it’s nothing weird that he’s asleep. It’s not. Still, Louis can’t shake this lump in his stomach telling him that something isn’t right.

He toes off his Vans, hearing Harry’s voice inside his head, teasing him for always walking barefoot indoors, and pats up the stairs to the bedroom.

“Harry, honey?” he says softly, opening the door to, what Louis now thinks of as, their bedroom. 

The sight he walks in on builds up a scream in his clenching chest, but in hindsight Louis is not sure if he screamed or even breathed during the next couple of minutes. He’s suddenly kneeling on the floor. 

Harry is lying on his back in the big bed, spread right across it, head tipping over the edge. He’s not wearing any pants, just underwear and an open shirt, crinkled up under his back. His hairless chest is glistening with sweat, and his throat is bobbing as it’s clawing for air in short, raspy breaths. There are two messed up lines of white powder on a mirror at the nightstand, and round blue pills on the floor and bed, like if Harry had dropped the pillbox.

Louis get’s back up on shaky legs and launches forward, running to the bed and kneeling by Harry’s head as he searches for his cell phone in his pockets with shaking hands.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“My boyfriend is dying, I think he’s taken an overdose” Louis blurts out and repeats the address three times before carelessly chucking the phone somewhere on the floor. Some PR-person is probably going to bust his head open for that phrasing later on, but Louis couldn’t care less. 

“H-Harry…”

Harry needed him. He needed him and Louis hadn’t been there. How long has he been like this - cold and sweaty and barely alive? Louis pushes him over on the side and shoves three fingers down his throat, wiggling them around. If there’s anything left in his stomach it needs to come out. After a few seconds Harry is gagging, throwing up on the carpet. It’s not much, but Louis imagines that his breathing is a little easier after that. He picks up the phone again to hear that the ambulance is there within a minute.

Harry’s head falls naturally in Louis’ lap, and he pets the damp curls calmly, forcing himself not to black out. It was going to be okay, Harry was not dying away on him. His beautiful boy, with the dimpled smile that was just for Louis and that raspy heartfelt voice, he was not leaving him. Louis was not going to let that happen.

“You are not allowed to die from me. You’re going to be fine, I promise” he whispers under shaky breath, kissing Harry’s cold forehead, trying to convince himself. “You can’t leave me Harry, I need you so much, I love you, you are not allowed to die.”

Louis doesn’t realise that the paramedics have arrived until they bend his fingers away from Harry’s shivering body, loading his boy up on a stretcher, connecting him to tubes and electrodes.

Louis doesn’t realise he’s sobbing until he sits next to an unconscious Harry in the ambulance, going way past the speed limit to the hospital.

And Louis doesn’t realise what has bothered him since the second he had walked through the kitchen door, until he sees the tubed up Harry disappear behind doors he’s not allowed to pass through at the hospital.

 

It had been the lack of snoring.


	7. Chapter 7

**L**

 

The walls are breathing. Louis knows they’re not really, but he can’t describe the feeling in the room any other way. He hasn’t moved from the uncomfortable chair for the past hour, unable to tear his eyes away from Harry in the hospital bed. He sits close, but doesn’t touch him. Louis is afraid to break Harry further. His mouth is slightly open and his face is pale, looking like a fragile porcelain doll; if he touches Harry, he might shatter. Harry’s arms and face are strapped to tubes, that are somehow keeping him alive. Louis is not quite sure how, but he’s grateful. 

The doctor who led Louis from the waiting area to Harry’s room, once he was stabilised, explained that Harry had him to thank for his life. That thanks to Louis, he was very likely to wake up in the next few days, and make a full recovery. The words felt like a blunt lie to Louis. It wasn’t thanks to him Harry was alive; it was because of him he had ended up in the hospital in the first place. If Louis hadn’t left him, if he hadn’t hung up on Skype, if he hadn’t if he hadn’t if he hadn’t…

Liam shows up shortly after Louis is allowed to be with Harry again. He’s white as a sheet, which is justified, his best friend having just overdosed. Liam asks questions Louis don’t know the answer to, and he states facts Louis doesn’t want to think about. Liam takes a seat in the couch for a few minutes, before getting up.

“You’ve got to understand, it’s not your fault Louis. If anything, it’s Simon’s.” he mutters, before leaving the room.

A part of Louis knows that Liam is right. There is one obvious villain, and it’s Simon Cowell. Having not slept for over 40 hours now, Louis deliriously plans his death in his mind. Fire seems painful enough, or some type of screws. If he hadn’t been such a cheap idiot, if he had only let Harry…

 

“Louis? Why are you calling me?”

Louis doesn’t realise he’s called Simon before he hears his voice. And he has no idea of why he has called.

“It’s your fault” he slurs out, the sleep-deprivation slowly taking control over his body. “Harry almost died and it’s your fault.”

“Don’t be a drama queen Louis, your relationship obviously already has enough of those” Cowell snorts on the other line.

Louis grits his teeth at that. “You. Shut up. About Harry.” Louis snaps. “You don’t deserve to walk the same earth as him, you foul scum, you… You devil.”

Simon laughs, tiredly. “Louis, honestly. Get some sleep and get those insults in order before you call me next time. I’d love to know the development on the health of my favourite client” he adds, sugar sweet.

The slithering tone in his voice makes Louis lose it.

“Fuck off!!! You fucking fuck!!! You absolute motherfucker, I swear to god I’m gonna fucking kil–“ is all Louis has the time to shout, before Liam snatches the phone away from him, ending the call.

“Louis, for fucks sake man, keep it together” he wheezes, looking around. “You’re in a hospital. Do you want be thrown out?”

Louis doesn’t say anything. Instead he starts crying, the first tears in a few hours, embarrassed, leaning his forehead against Liam’s shoulder.

“I’m just so... I just want to fucking kill him, I can’t…” the words die in his mouth. They don’t seem enough.

“I know lad, I know… We all do. But you can’t go around threatening Cowell, he records all his calls, you could get thrown in jail, Louis. Focus on Harry now. He’ll be okay.”

 

With shaking hands, Louis reaches out to touch Harry’s wrist. The feel of warm skin and a pulse point, proof that Harry still is alive, makes it easier to trust Liam’s words.

**N**

When Niall arrives at the hospital, he’s broken a sweat. Even though he drove, he feels like he’s just run a marathon. He doesn’t know what to expect or how he will feel. Louis had just said it was really bad, and that he needed him there as soon as possible. At first, because of how broken Louis had sounded, Niall didn’t even reflect upon how it’s his best friend who was hanging on by a thread in the emergency room. He had just sympathised at the thought of how Louis must have felt, finding his boyfriend like that. But as Niall hurries down the corridors of the hospital, trying to find the right room, it dawns on him. It’s his Harry. His best friend, his protégé, his little brother. That’s who’s lying on a sterile hospital bed, bordering between life and death.

The first he recognises through the window an white plastic blinds is Harry’s tattooed arm. It’s hooked up to several machines, and Niall can’t help to think of the fact that, despite having a ridiculous amount of tattoos, Harry’s terrified of needles. The second thing he notices is how pale Harry is. The swallows peeking up from under the covers seem even blacker than usual, and Harry is like milk. His curls are pushed back in a loose bun, resting on top of his head. 

Then he sees Louis. He sees the profile of him, sitting by the bed, holding Harry’s hand and softly stroking his thumb over the cross tattoo. He’s got dark rings under his eyes, and his brown hair is in disarray. Louis’ lips are pressed together into a thin line cutting his face, and he looks lost.

Niall stands there, frozen, contemplating whether to go inside or not, when someone taps him on the shoulder.

“Niall…” Liam says, instantly engulfing him in a tight hug as soon as Niall turns around. Niall can’t recall if they’ve ever had any more intimate body contact than a few bro-ish handshakes; nevertheless, Liam holds on to him like he’s the last thing keeping him alive. Niall hugs him back, needing the pressure not to explode.

When Liam let’s go, he’s reserved, like he just realised how out of character that gesture had been, but Niall just points to a few chairs by the corridor wall and they go to sit down.

“How long have you been here?” he asks Liam.

“An hour or so, not very long. I live just fifteen minutes from here, so it was a quick drive. I’ve barely been inside the room though, think Louis needs the space.” Liam says, answering more than Niall asked.

“Yeah, it looked… Intense” Niall agrees.

Without warning, Liam breaks down in tears, knees bent up on the chair, hiding his face in his lap. Niall looks around, not wanting Louis to see him like this.

“I need to tell you something” Liam sobs, still not looking at Niall.

“Let’s go somewhere private” Niall hisses, and drags Liam down the corridor.

 

They end up in a deserted corner of the wing, by a toilet that’s out of function.

“Liam, what’s going on? I know it’s your best friend, he’s mine too, but we have to be strong for Louis now” Niall says, trying to sound calm and soothing.

“It… It…” Liam begins, but starts crying louder. “It’s my fault” he finally says, before starting sobbing again.

Niall looks at him, scandalized. “What do you mean Liam? What did you do?”

“I didn’t mean to, I didn’t think… He’s been doing so good, I thought it didn’t matter…” Liam mumbles, not looking at Niall.

“Liam, spit it out, what the fuck did you do?!” Niall almost yells, stepping closer to Liam.

The producer might be a few inches taller than Niall, but he shrinks down against the wall under the manager’s cold stare.

“Okay okay okay” he mumbles, sitting down on the floor, leaning his back at the pale green wall. Who thought the colour of faded vomit was a good choice for a hospital?

Niall sits down in front of Liam.

“Tell me, Liam” he demands calmly.

“Yeah… It was a few weeks ago, right? Just after Harry told Louis he wanted to come out. I came around to the house and Louis wasn’t there, he was off running errands, and anyway… Ok, so I was told that the police was probably gonna pay me a visit, right?” Liam begins. Niall starts to get a very heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, but nods to tell him to continue his story.

“So, I… kind of brought my stash over to Harry’s. The police never check him out, not since that one time you know?”

Niall remembers. It was a few years ago, when the police did a raid over at Harry’s, just when he didn’t have any illegal substances for once. They got so much shit from the public for accusing the innocent little doe eyed artist that the mayor even had to make a statement. After that, Harry could have done cocaine in front of a policeman and he still wouldn’t have dared to do anything.

Liam speaks again: “So, I kind of said I needed to hide some shit, right? Just a few bags of dope and some downers, nothing too heavy I thought. And Harry said it was alright, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t judge.”

Niall closes his eyes, inhaling and exhaling, trying to compose himself. “Did you… really bring… Cocaine and painkillers to an old addicts house? What made you think that was a bright idea? Are you literally that fucking stupid?” he wheezes through gritted teeth, making Liam blush even more.

“He was doing so well though, he clearly said he hadn’t felt any need for so long, I even asked him you know! I’m not that stupid!” Liam starts defending himself.

“There’s always chance of relapse, you fucking twat! Why didn’t you pick it up when the police had been over at your place?” Niall asks, his Irish accent growing thicker, as it tends to do when he’s furious. Internally he’s fighting the urge to punch Liam in the face.

“I forgot about it, you know? People brought over new, I just didn’t think of it. I didn’t realise it until just now, when I started thinking about where Harry could’ve gotten it, since it always was me handling the dealers.” 

Niall takes a deep breath, glaring at Liam’s stupid face. “You need to keep this to yourself.”

“What? I shouldn’t come clean?” Liam looks confused. Niall shakes his head.

“Not yet at least. Wait and see what happens. If Harry doesn’t make it, you could actually get arrested for it. And even if he does make it, Louis will never forgive you for this. Never. I don’t even know if I can.” Niall says, standing up, brushing his jeans. “So you sit here Payno, and you _pray_ to that fucking god you believe in, that Harry wakes up. And you pray that he doesn’t rat you out.” There’s a moment of silence before he continues. “If he doesn’t… Both you and Cowell are dead.”

 

Liam starts crying again as Niall walks away, but the blonde Irishman doesn’t look back. 

 

**L**

 

Louis has almost dozed off completely, when he feels something stir in Harry’s bed. Something touching the back of his hand, something soft, like… a thumb? When Louis sits up, blinking confusedly, he has to contain himself not to scream out loud.

“Louis…” Harry whispers to him, looking at him under heavy eyelids, still as pale as the pillowcase.

“Harry, oh my god, Harry” Louis can’t help but squeaking, throwing himself at the newly awoken boy.

“Ouf” Harry grunts, making Louis back away instantly.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I… Nurse!!” Louis yells, coming to his senses. 

Two of the nurses that had been working on Harry since they came to the emergency room 32 hours earlier hurries into the room. They start taking tests and examining Harry, only to state a few minutes later that he should be fine, but needs his rest. Louis can’t help the tears from falling down his cheeks. The nurses look at him, and then share a knowing look, and leave the room, closing the door behind them.

“Harry” Louis sobs, and Harry stretches out an arm, making Louis lie down in the bed with him, curled up over the blanket.

“Harry, I was so scared” he whispers against Harry’s collarbone, wetting his skin.

He hears Harry let out a broken sob too, and hugs him closer. “I’m so…so sorry, Louis” he mumbles, his voice hoarse. “Please don’t hate me”

Louis sits up a bit, and looks at Harry’s face. It’s splotched with tears, and his eyes are bloodshot. “Harry. I could never hate you” he says calmly, tears still falling, not letting go of Harry’s eyes. “I love you. Always. I’m not mad at you, I… I was only so scared. I shouldn’t have gone, I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone” he finishes, observing Harry’s features, imagining that a look of worry melts away from his face, making the lines of his face cleaner.

“I love you too, but it wasn’t your fault, please don’t blame yourself.” Harry whispers, and for the first time in over four days, the two boys kiss. It’s innocent, wet only from tears, but warm and sincere. Louis feels like he can finally breathe again, and his heart is starting to heal just from being connected to Harry like that again.

As they break free, Harry looks like he wants to say something, but Louis gently hushes him. “Shh, baby, you need to rest. We have all the time in the world to talk later.” He says softly, and kisses Harry’s cheek.

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“I’ll always be here” Louis mumbles, as Harry drifts off again.

 

When Harry wakes up again a few hours later, Louis sits in the small sofa in the room, accompanied by Niall and a very quiet Liam. Harry smiles faintly at them.

“Hi” he says, making Niall laugh.

“You stupid fuck” Niall says, before hurrying over to hug Harry bent over the bed.

Louis can hear Harry mumble sorry to Niall, and Niall saying something like “You scared the crap out of me”.

As Niall backs away from the bed, the room falls in silence. Harry lies blushing, pushed up on a few pillows.

“I feel so… embarrassed” he finally says, not looking at any of them. “I feel really, really stupid.”

Louis moves over to sit in the chair just by the bed, tangling his fingers with Harry’s.

“None of us blame you Harry, or are mad at you. We’re just so relieved you’re okay, and we’re here to make sure you get the help you need” Louis says, and the others nod along.

“I’m not ever doing anything like that again, I… I promise, I’m so sorry” Harry says quietly, starting crying again.

Louis glances back at Niall and Liam and nods at the door. Niall takes the hint and drags a sad looking Liam out of the door, closing the door behind them. Louis hops up and sits on the bed, Harry now sitting up properly.

“I’m cold” he says, looking down on his bare chest. Louis hurries over to a bag slumped in the corner that he had asked Niall to go get when Harry first woke up. He grabs a green zipper-hoodie with a Packers emblem on the chest, and helps Harry dress in it. One arm is left outside, since Louis doesn’t want to mess with the tubes.

Louis sits down on the edge of the bed, and searches Harry’s face for clues, but he gets nothing, so he has to ask. “Harry, love… What happened?” he asks, kissing Harry’s knuckles.

Harry sighs, sounding like he’s been dreading the question.

“I don’t really know, I promise it wasn’t anything I planned, I just drove myself crazy, I guess. First my mum called when you left, and said I was an idiot for wanting to come out and that you would leave me when you understood what a mess I am. But then after our skype call I felt weird, and then I just kept picturing you falling in love with some childhood friend of the groom or something, and how you’d be much better off without me, and then I remembered Liam’s stack and I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t planning a suicide or anything, I just wanted to stop itching and stop thinking, you know…” Harry rambles, voice fading towards the end. 

Louis gapes at him, mind buzzing with questions in need of immediate answers.

“Wait wait wait” he says, sounding more upset than he planned on, drawing a worried expression on Harry’s face. “No, sorry love, I’m not mad at you, I just… You need to tell me more about this, cause I have a feeling there are a few people I have to actually kill.” Louis says, leaning in and kissing Harry’s forehead.

Harry takes it one step at a time, starting with his mother. He stutters a bit when he recollects everything she’s said, not looking at Louis.

“Harry…” Louis says when he stops talking. “Harry, you know none of that is the truth, right? You know I’ll never leave you?”

“Yeah, I think so, I want to believe it, but it just made so much sense when she said it, and you were away and… I just got stupid. I know you love me way more than you should.”

“I love you just the perfect amount, thank you very much.” Louis snorts, before smiling. “I’ll spend everyday for the rest of our lives proving that to you, if you let me, baby.”

Harry glances at him quickly, and nods. “I always want you with me” he says, shyly, and get’s a kiss in response.

Louis sits up again, smiling softly down at Harry. “Now that we’ve established that your mother is a downright idiot and that I love you very very much indeed, let’s move on to the matter of Liam fucking keeping drugs at the house?”

Harry looks down at his hands again, a speckled crimson nuance spreading down his cheeks and throat.

“That’s the worst part, I feel so fucking stupid” Harry says, explaining how Liam had asked to keep it there for just a few days, hiding it in the walk-in closet. “And I was feeling fine when he did, I was so happy with everything I wouldn’t have taken any, not even with a gun to my head. But then he never came back to pick it up, and I was having this fucking anxiety attack after we hung up on Skype. I couldn’t breathe Louis, in a way I haven’t felt since before I ever met you. And I was itching so badly, and I just wanted to stop feeling anything. When I remembered what he had left, I just… I didn’t even think about what I was doing, it was routine.”

Louis’ insides are boiling in his body, and his skin is sure to be caught on fire within seconds, he is sure of it. “I’m gonna kill Liam. Kill. Him.”

“No, no, it’s not his fault, I shouldn’t have–“

“Harry. He left drugs in the house of a recovering addict. That’s literally the worst fucking thing you can do.” Louis snarls, and stands up. “Stay here, I’m going to go and see with the doctor if you’re allowed to eat something, you need your strength” he says and pets Harry’s cheek.

“Yeah, okay… Don’t hurt Liam, please, it’s not, he didn’t mean to.” Harry pleads.

“I can’t promise anything.”

 

When Louis steps outside the room, he first sees Niall sitting on a chair right outside with a grim look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, worried.

Niall doesn’t answer, but points at a woman further down the hall, talking to a doctor with grey sideburns. Louis hasn’t met her before, but remembers a picture at Harry’s mantelpiece, that he always glares at.

“His mother” Louis states, and Niall nods. “What is that bitch doing here?”

“Guess the hospital must have called her or something” Niall says, but Louis doesn’t listen. He’s already on his way over to Mrs Styles, tapping her on the shoulder. 

“Mrs Styles, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Now.” he says, and she looks at him with a crooked eyebrow, eying him from head to toe.

“And who may you be, telling me not to visit my son in the hospital?” she says with pursed lips.

“I’m his boyfriend. He doesn’t need you here.” Louis doesn’t blink.

“That is really not your business” she sneers.

“Oh but it is. It is my business, cause you have hurt Harry to the point that he almost took his own life. You did that. That is on you. You told your mentally ill son that I, his boyfriend, would leave him. And you told him that no one would like him if he comes out. You told him outright lies for, I don’t know, your own sick and selfish pleasure? To feel like you have an up on him? You’re exactly like Cowell, and it makes me sick to my stomach” Louis growls at Harry’s mother, whose facial expression doesn’t change. He steps even closer and lowers his voice. “You know what I think? I think you can’t stand seeing the son, whom you have neglected for so fucking long, be happy. You lose your power over him when he isn’t miserable. You saw your chance to tear him down, and you took it.”

Louis is now standing so close to Mrs Styles he can feel her breath on his face, even though she’s taller than him in her heels.

“You will not meet Harry here. You will not hurt him anymore. You will leave the hospital and leave Harry to recover in peace, and you will definitely not mess with his life anymore. Because of you he almost lost the life he had. Leave.”

The arrogant smile on her face falters a bit, but she scrambles to keep her posture.

“Or you’ll do what?” she asks coldly.

“Oh, I’ll figure something out, I’m a very resourceful man. You don’t wanna find out.” Louis says lightly, stepping back a bit, hand on his hip.

Without another word, Mrs Styles turns on her – very expensive Louboutin – heel and walks away from Louis and, in extent, from Harry. Louis draws a relieved breath, and goes to talk to the doctor.

 

Ten minutes later he’s back at Harry’s room with a smoothie and a croissant, the doctor having said Harry shouldn’t eat anything too heavy to begin with. Louis finds Niall in the room, having Harry howling with laughter at something.

“Hi” he says entering the room. “I brought you this.”

Harry thanks him with a smile and eagerly gulps on the smoothie right away. Louis sits down next to Niall on the couch.

“Do you know where Liam is?”

Niall’s smile is excusing. “Uhm, yeah, about that. I overheard your not very subtle death threat, so I told him it would probably be best if he left and went home for a while.”

“Niall!”

“You can deal with him later Louis, I get it, and I’m pissed too. But he was a total wreck, believe me, and Harry needs you more than Liam needs his arse kicked right now.” Niall states with a sensible tone in his voice.

Looking over at Harry who’s munching on his croissant and getting crumbs everywhere, Louis realises Niall is right.

**H**

 

Two days later, Harry is ready to leave the hospital. After speaking with the hospital’s consultant for the psych ward, they decided on sending him to se a therapist a few days every week, and not admitting him to a rehab. The psychologist came to the realisation that Harry was much better off being with Louis rather than away from him. 

A few hours after Harry was first taken into the emergency room, paparazzis and journalists started cluttering up the entrances to the hospital. They still don’t know who tipped them off, even if both Louis and Niall are fairly sure it’s the work of Simon Cowell. After trying to figure out an easy way for Harry to leave the hospital they realise there is none, and just order for a car to get driven up as far as it can to the back entrance. 

Harry eyes his reflection in the elevator mirror, fixing his hair. He’s dressed in black jeans, grey hoodie and a black coat. A bit warm, but he feels safer like this. Louis is standing right next to him, stroking his back. Niall has already left with Harry’s bag, hoping to draw away some of the media. 

“Are you ready, love?” Louis asks as the elevator doors open on the entrance floor.

“As much as I can be, I suppose.” He answers, insides churning.

“I love you” Louis whispers, quickly squeezing his hand, before walking out the door in front of Louis.

 

None of them could have prepared for the amount of screaming people, clicking cameras and fluttering flashes they would be greeted with.

 

_“Harry! Harry! This way Harry!”_

_“Over here rock star! Look here!”_

_“Harry, is it true you had an overdose?”_

_“Were you trying to kill yourself Harry?!”_

_“Did you have a mental breakdown?”_

 

Harry presses up right to the side of Louis, afraid. The shorter man slings an arm around his much broader shoulders, trying to shove the photographers out of the way. The car is waiting for them just a few meters away, but is blocked.

“You need to step back, c’mon now, he’s leaving a hospital, use your fucking heads!” Louis yells at them, elbowing his way through the crowd.

“Get out of the way, you fucking midget” a paparazzi yells in return, trying to push away Louis to get a clearer shot of Harry, just as they reach the car.

Harry doesn’t think, but pushes up the short bald man against the car and growls: “You don’t fucking touch my boyfriend you little pathetic shit excuse of a human being, get the fuck out of here!” before shoving him away and hurrying inside the car after Louis.

 

_“Harry! Harry!”_

_“Are you gay Harry?”_

_“Do you have something to say to your gay fans Harry?”_

_“When did you realise you were gay Harry?”_

_“Is your homosexuality the reason for your suicide attempt?”_

_“Harry! Harry!”_

 

**L**

 

As the door slams shut behind them and the car drives away from the cluttered parking lot, flashes going off against the tinted windows, Harry and Louis just sit in silence, shocked and shivering with adrenaline. 

"What. The hell. Harry?" Louis says after a while. "Did you just out yourself?"

He looks at Harry, whose eyes are bigger than he’s ever seen then. Louis can’t detect regret in Harry’s features.

"I... I think so, yeah" he says slowly, grabbing Louis' hand, holding it in both his. "I didn't even think about it, I just saw them hurting you and I-I don’t know. I wanted to kill them" he adds, frowning at the memory of the photographer’s attacking Louis.

"I wanted to kill them!" Louis exclaims, emphasizing the "I". "God, the way they talked to you, I was one second away from punching them to the ground."

“It’s nothing unusual” Harry shrugs. Louis shakes his head, not believing what he’s hearing.

“I can’t believe you have to live like that.” He’s baffled.

“I’ve never had it this bad. Most of the time you can stay under radar if you don’t want to be papped.” He says, before scooting closer to Louis. “This is a part of your life now too, though. They’re going to be after us like hawks after this.”

Harry almost whispers, like he’s scared of Louis being angry. Louis smiles tenderly.

“It’ll be all right. As long as you feel okay for just outing yourself?”

“Yeah, actually it… Feels kind of liberating. Simon’s going to have a right fit, and I’ll probably be sued, but they can’t really put me back in the closet now, right?” Harry thinks aloud, smile growing bigger as he’s talking.

With a sudden urgency, Louis clashes his lips against Harry's, running his hands through his tangled hair.

"Whatever happens…" He whispers against Harry's lips, before sucking his tongue into his mouth.

"We’ll figure it out together" Harry answers, panting. "You and me."

 

**L**

 

Harry and Louis arrive back at the house 40 minutes later and their phones keep buzzing due to a ton of texts and phone calls. Niall called screaming in Harry’s ear before hanging up, and all of Louis’ family, relatives, friends and even some old classmates texted, called and wrote to him on Facebook for dating a world known celebrity.

“Damn, word gets around fast” Louis states, climbing out of the car after Harry, as his third grade teacher Mrs Kulowitz had found him on Facebook, congratulating him on the relationship. “People are fucking crazy. Harry, calm down!” he shouts after Harry, who hurries inside. 

Louis follows Harry indoors, finding him leaning over the counter, panting and crying. He pats him gently over the back, trying to comfort him.

“Love… It will be fine, eventually.”

Louis hears Harry draw a shaky breath.

“I never wanted to put you in this position Louis, I’m so sorry, I–” Harry begins, working himself up to hysteria, but Louis stops him with a kiss.

“Shh” he sounds, lips against lips. “Breathe, love.”

Louis stays close, rubbing circles over the small of Harry’s back, breathing with him. When Harry calms down, he nods.

“I’m sorry” he mumbles, rosy cheeked.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, okay? I get that this is a lot to you. I don’t mind people pestering me with messages though, I finally get to brag about my boyfriend.” Louis smiles cheekily at Harry, who laughs, tears still in his eyes.

“That part is pretty great” Harry agrees. “Niall told me to stay off social media completely though, to not make the legal situation any worse. Simon is going to come at me with everything he’s got, and my mom said the contrac-“ Harry pauses and decides he doesn’t want to remember that night again. “But I’m actually surprised she hasn’t called or anything during the hospitalisation? She usually loves to wallow in misery like that.” Harry wonders, walking over to the fridge.

Louis hasn’t told him about his run-in with the mother-in-law at the hospital, and is not keen on doing so now either. He’d rather have that horrible woman’s existence erased from Harry’s mind and memory.

“Mhm” he hums, hugging Harry from behind as the taller man goes to dig out some food from the fridge. “Want to go lie down in the couch, watch Friends or something? Just forget about it all and relax for a bit?”

Harry smiles and nods at the idea, munching on a green apple.

 

As the boys watch their fourth episode of Friends, tangled up from feet to shoulders, they hear the front door slam shut, making the windows rattle.

“Harry! Holy fuck, you have no fucking idea the call I just got” Niall yells. “Harry, where the fuck are you?!”

Niall pops his head in the living room before Harry has had the time to answer. How fucking fast did that man run? “Harry, holy fucking shit, you need to hear this. I got a call from you mums lawyers over at Omberg and sons, and they fucking did it” Niall pants, looking expectantly at Harry’s and Louis’ confused faces.

“Did what?” Harry asks, unsure.

“They fucking found a loophole! In your fucking contract! Simon can kiss his fucking hairy ass, he’s never getting near you again!” Niall screams at the top of his lungs, laughing manically.

Harry and Louis just look at each other for a few seconds, not quite being able to take it in. Had they really been that lucky? But Niall’s laughter tells no lies, and is vastly contagious, so they end up screaming out their joy, together in a huddle on the big couch, all of them.

“I need to call Liam” Harry says after a while, ignoring the sceptical looks on Louis’ and Niall’s faces. “You have to let that go eventually” he adds.

“Yeah well, not in the near future I won’t” Louis mutters, earning a “Hear hear” from Niall.

But as Harry unlocks his phone he discovers a voicemail from his mother.

“What the hell is this?” he asks, showing the screen to the other boys, sounding both confused and a bit scared.

Louis’ insides knot. He had told her to stay away, this was not staying away.

“Listen to it” Niall says, and Harry nods, putting it on speaker.

 

 _“Harry, it’s your mother. I know we don’t see eye to eye on almost anything, and that I haven’t been the best of mothers. But you have a very convincing boyfriend Harry. He explained how I owe you this. And he’s right. I can’t make up for how I’ve treated you, but I can help you getting out of contract. Enjoy your newfound freedom and don’t let that boy go, son. Please call me when you hear this.”_  

Louis blushes under Harry’s and Niall’s shocked gazes.

“What did you do?” Harry asks, baffled.

“Uhm, I might have… eh, threatened her a bit?” Louis begins, sounding insecure, Harry gasping. “It wasn’t that bad, but I saw her at the hospital right after you told me what she had said to you, and I lost it. I didn’t think she’d do anything like this, I’m as shocked as you are!”

Niall laughs, as if he doesn’t know what to do else.

“Can’t believe this. I saw you guys talking, but I had no idea you could be that convincing Louis, damn.”

Harry gets up from the sofa to call his mother, and leaves the room. When he comes back a few minutes later, he’s got tears in his eyes. Louis frowns, worried now.

“What did she say?”

But Harry smiles, wiping his eyes.

“Only… Only good things. She said Simon is out of the picture, and I can do whatever I want now, and that she was sorry for not helping me sooner. And she… She apologised for everything. I know it doesn’t quite make up for it per say, but it felt so good to hear it wasn’t my fault” he says, voice faltering.

Louis gets up from the sofa too, and goes to hug Harry, who holds him hard.

“You did that Louis. You’ve done so much for me.” Harry mumbles in Louis’ tousled hair. “You help me so much. Thank you.”

He sounds so earnest it makes Louis smile. “You’re welcome babe” he whispers.

They stand like that, quiet, hugging, placing soft kisses to each other’s temples and cheeks and necks, until Niall clears his throat.

“So. Love birds. What do want to do to celebrate?”

 

Since any kind of partying is extremely out of the picture, and stepping a foot outside the house would result in being mobbed by cameras again, they decide on ordering in pizza and have a movie marathon, each of them getting to pick a movie. Harry goes with Love Actually, Niall picks Green street hooligans and Louis settles for The Beach – “What? Leo is hot?”.

To top it off, Harry decides to post his first Instagram picture in colour in over three years. He has had the perfect picture edited and ready for some time now. It’s him and Louis, who’s wearing Harry’s lilac knitted sweater, laughing on the sofa, lying close together.

He simply captions it with “Strong.” and posts. Within fourteen minutes, it’s Harry’s most liked picture ever.

 

**H/L**

 

Louis drives along the beach promenade, Harry blindfolded in the passenger seat. “Switched positions, huh love?” he had said, tying a scarf over Harry’s eyes before starting the vehicle. The car radio showed 01.14 am. It’s a clear night, sky midnight blue and painted with stars.

Louis parks the car, and runs around to Harry’s side of the car to lead Harry out.

“Am I allowed to take this off now?” he asks, clawing at the scarf over his eyes.

“In just a few seconds love, patience please” Louis laughs from the end of the car, unpacking the trunk. “Okay… Now!”

Harry takes off the scarf; only to see that they stand by the beginning of the same pier he had taken Louis all those weeks back.

“Louis…” he breathes, and bends down to kiss him. Then he notices the Thai lanterns sitting by their feet. “What is this?”

“I was thinking…” Louis begins, ushering Harry to pick up a lantern and slowly starting to walk out on the pier, side by side. “That with the weeks we’ve had. Well, mostly you of course love, but I’ve been hurting with you. I just thought that it would be good to lay all that behind us. You mentioned your therapist saying something about closure, and I thought this might be a cute way to try it” Louis explains.

“But what are we doing?” Harry still wonders.

“We’re going to release the Thai lanters over the ocean, love, and let go of all that old worries and shit with them too” Louis explains, just as they reach the end of the pier.

Harry smiles so big it feels like his face is about to split in half. He has been looking for a way to move on, to step out of the mud that’s cluttered his mind for so long. And Louis found the perfect way, without him having to say anything about it.

Louis sets down the lantern, and Harry does the same. And they stand there, hand in hand, overlooking the vast ocean, blinking at the reflections of the stars in the still water. The anchor Harry got tattooed on his wrist when he was 20 is now accompanied by thick sailor ropes slithering around Louis’ wrist in the shape of an infinity sign, tying them together when they hold hands. The ink around Louis’ wrist is not fully healed yet, having only gotten the tattoo a few days earlier. He had decided the day after they got home from the hospital.

 

_“Louis, are you sure?” Harry asked, and kissed him deeply instead of waiting for an answer._

_“Yeah” Louis panted. “Never been this sure of anything in my whole life.”_

_“Oh god” Harry moaned, both at the statement and as a reaction to Louis grounding down his hips. “I love you so fucking much”_

_“I love you more” Louis smirked, nimble lips pressed at Harry’s plumper ones._

_“Impossible.”_

 

The light from the lighthouse makes the blue glitter. Louis looks over, and up, at Harry, who’s looking up at the sky a bit glassy eyed.

“Love. Are you alright?” he asks softly.

Harry draws his eyes from the stars in the sky to the ones in Louis’ eyes, smiling with his dimples on full display.

“I’m wonderful. You make me feel so safe, Louis. I’m just a bit overwhelmed, I can’t believe you thought of this, it’s such a beautiful idea.” Harry says, taking in the sight of Louis, only lit by stars and a far off streetlight. “Can I just say something?”

Louis nods, big eyes looking at Harry carefully.

“I just… I’ve been so lost in myself Louis, and you took upon yourself to be my… guide, out of all that. And thanks to that, I owe you my life. And now you help me move on and leave the bad things behind, I’m just so grateful. I hope you know that?”

Louis answers with a tight embrace. “I know. I’d do anything for you.”

Louis sets down on his feet again, taking out his Iphone and headphones. “I’ve got another little detail to add to this. We’re gonna listen to a song while doing this.” He says, handing one of the headphones to Harry, who takes it in his ear.

A slow intro starts, and a wailing voice sings of summertime.

 

_If you listen close you hear my teardrops fall, my dream is yours_

 

“What is this?”

“It’s called Kevlar soul, I don’t know the band, something indie I guess. It’s really beautiful though, just like you” Louis says, ending with a wink.

“You need to stop being so cheesy Louis, I’m tired of blushing.” Harry gushes. “Should we do this?”

 

_I have time on my side, making diamonds of coal_

 

“Yeah, let’s” Louis agrees, picking up the two Thai lanterns. He lights them slowly, admiring the warm light up close. “Are you ready?” he asks, looking over at Harry, both of them holding a lantern each.

He nods. “Yeah”

One two three and the two yellow lights are floating in the air, steadily drifting upwards and out over the Pacific; the dark waves partially seen in the moonlight.

 

_Put a hole, through my Kevlar soul_

 

Goodbye to the insecurities and the self-doubt. Fuck off all those years of self-hatred. Farewell, stay away, see you no more. Along with the burning lights they’ll never find their way back into the spine of Harry’s body. It’s symbolic, but as the lantern turns into a small speck if light in the sky, an ember sets hold of Harry, warming him up from the inside out. Filling him with a surge of hope, a feeling of starting over. The security of knowing Louis has his back.

“The song was really good” Harry says as the headphone goes silent in his ear, and he wipes a tear. Louis stands on his toes, kissing him. “Apart from the lonely and cold-part it was very fitting.”

“Yeah, sorry about that” Louis laughs. “But the title made me think of you. You’ve come such a long way Harry, and I feel…” Louis’ voice hitches, and he clears his throat. Harry gives his hand a soft squeeze. “I feel so honoured that you’ve let me in.” 

Harry cups Louis’ cheek, and kisses him. And he doesn’t stop kissing him until the sun wakes up at the horizon.


	8. Epilogue

“And the Grammy for best album goes to… Harry Styles with ‘Home’!”

Harry always thought the shocked expressions of the artists winning awards were fake, but as he sees his own face on the big screen when his name is called, he realises they aren’t. He immediately turns to Louis, who beams at him with so much pride and joy Harry almost forgets he’s won a Grammy. Harry kisses him, perhaps a moment to long, but it’s what he needs to be able to stand up. He stumbles past Drake and Rihanna, and hurries up the stairs to the stage, where he’s greeted by the presenter of the award, his old idol, Coldplay’s Chris Martin. He shakes his hand vigorously and accepts the award. It weighs heavy in his hand.

Looking out over the sea of people, every a-list celebrity in the whole country looking up at him, Harry still only sees one specific person. He shouldn’t be able to make out the blue of Louis’ eyes from up here, but they manage to calm him like the ocean. Harry smiles his most charming smile and clears his throat before bending down a bit to speak into the microphone.

“Wow, this is really surprising and amazing, thank you so, so much. I’ve worked so hard and so long on this album, and poured so much of myself down into it.” He stops and smiles, swallowing. “It’s no secret that I’ve been through a big deal this last year, and I am a hundred per cent certain that I wouldn’t stand here today if it wasn’t for a very special person.” He says. He hasn’t written a speech, and hardly even thought of what to say on beforehand, but still the words flow from him like running water. 

Harry looks down at Louis on the second row, who’s smiling up at him. He’s got tears in his eyes and smiles from ear to ear. He glistens in the light from the stage spotlights.

“Louis, you have saved me in every way possible, and I’m so grateful for you. I’ll spend the rest of my life striving to make you as happy as you make me. Thank you.” He says, trying to keep his voice steady, but not sure if he’s succeeding.

Harry backs away from the microphone, waves at the audience and walks off the stage besides his childhood-hero, hand tight around the Grammy Award. As he walks he looks back again at Louis. Along with the rest of the audience, he’s stood applauding for his boy. 

Unlike the rest of the audience however, he has the right to be proud over Harry winning the prestigious award. Most of the songs are about him anyway. Written sometime between their first meeting, their first kiss, their first I love you, their first knock at the closet door, and their final breakaway from the shackles Cowell was keeping them in. Somewhere during that time Harry wrote the songs now topping the best selling-lists all over the world. Sure, the fans speculate, and sometimes get it right. But no one can really know, like Harry and Louis knows. 

No one can really know, just how much Louis has done for him. It just so happens that Louis Tomlinson is the only one who could save Harry Styles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed it!


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